


Where Foolish Hearts Dare

by Warks1999



Series: Our Favourite Eejits [4]
Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27944555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warks1999/pseuds/Warks1999
Summary: On the run in towards Christmas, a new arrival in Derry creates tension within the group. But is all as it seems?...Part 4 of Our Favourite Eejits
Relationships: James Maguire/Erin Quinn
Series: Our Favourite Eejits [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045833
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	1. Gambling

Chapter 1: Gambling 15th December 1995

Morning Assembly.

Boring. Tedious. Jenny Joyce singing.

That had become the standard morning for the students of Our Lady Immaculate. With Christmas fast approaching, Jenny and her little group's performances (or demolition jobs as Michelle referred to them) of Christmas Classics only frustrated them further. On the morning of Friday 15th December, Wham! were the latest to fall to the Jenny-led barrage of song.

"This Christmas can she give someone her voice box". James whispered to the others on their row.

Ever since the day Kathy's letter arrived, a more confident James had been born out of the despair that came with his mother's writing. A more confident James had become a far more funnier James too and they all sniggered at his suggestion of putting their misery at an end.

"Christ my head". Michelle groaned, with a hand on her forehead.

"Are you hungover Michelle!". Clare quietly fretted

"Aye I'm steamin'".

It was fair to say Clare was not best pleased at Michelle's state when they had a whole day of school to get through, although she knew it would hardly be considered a first offence for Michelle. Michelle turning up to school with no alcohol in her blood would be more shocking than Lord Lucan reappearing. Luckily for them all, Jenny and her group soon reached the end of the song and without any applause returned to their rows. Sister Michael got up from her seat on the edge of the stage and ran her eye out of the children, her eyes fixing especially on their group. It was fair to say that since the Child of Prague incident, none of them were beyond instant suspicion and constant vigilance became a consistent theme of each day.

"Thank you, Jenny. I'm sure Wham! won't feel the need to take you to court for copyright infringement based on that rendition".

Immediately they could tell it was one of those days.

"Now, as you all know Christmas is fast approaching". Happy young faces smiled back at her at that, not the reaction that the headmistress wanted. "Next week is the final week of this calendar year and for some unfathomable reason, the board of governors have decided that a week of extracurricular activities would be beneficial to you all".

Sister Michael seemed her usual unimpressed self, but all the students began to perk up at the suggestion of something different to their usual schedule. It sounded relaxing and in the run up to Christmas, none of them were particularly keen on working hard. Apart from Jenny. She would be insufferable with or without the extracurricular activities.

"But as you are all aware, I do things different at Our Lady Immaculate and I am more than happy to face the board of governors if they disagree with me. That being said, there will be no extracurricular activities next week and you will all present yourself as normal every day without failure".

A collective groan went out from all of them.

"For fucks sake". Michelle moaned

"Well there goes any fun next week". James dejectedly added

Erin and Clare sighed in agreement with them, Orla too busy staring at the ground, tracing the patterns and grooves of each floorboard.

"Do I make myself clear?" Sister Michael demanded

"Yes Sister Michael". The mumbled collective response came shortly after

"Good. Just one further announcement to make. Molly McNair was shot by a farmer last night for trespassing but is expected to make a full recovery, so I don't expect to hear of anyone pretending to be grief stricken by it because well… I don't care".

All of the students looked back at her with wide eyes at her final news announcement and the lack of concern she had for the poor student who had been shot. She dismissed the silent room and they all set off on their way to class, which happened to be History for the girls. On the way, Clare raised the point of Sister Michael's unsympathetic delivery of the shooting, though Michelle seemed to be siding with the Sister for once.

"What?" A stunned Michelle looked back at the angered Clare. "From what I heard, Molly got shot by the Farmer's wife after the wife found her rolling around with her husband in the hay. Dirty bitch should have seen it coming".

"She still got shot Michelle! Have some compassion!" Clare argued in return.

"I'll open my heart when she closes her legs Clare. Nothing but a slag Molly".

James and Erin shared a look of exasperation with Michelle, the pair of them unable to voice to her just how unsympathetic and dismissive she sounded. Then again, Molly McNair's reputation was hardly unknown. Erin remembered the day she caught the girl staring at James, and the wee English fella had the life story of Molly told to him before she could lure him in. Erin made sure of that.

"I can't wait to see what that Cromwell fella did in Wexford". Orla stated happily.

"For the last time Orla, Irish people can't admire Oliver Cromwell". Erin's frustrations grew.

"Aye so you keep sayin'". Her cousin replied before putting a lollipop into her mouth, which to Erin's delight would keep her quiet for a few minutes.

Sadly for Erin that didn't last long, for as soon as the History lesson got underway and Orla started to read about what Oliver Cromwell did in Wexford, she became very much aware that she'd hear about it for the rest of the day.

* * *

Walking home from school, Orla had finally stopped talking about Oliver Cromwell and instead started talking about what she wanted for Christmas. Most of the ideas were far-fetched, especially asking for at least ten unicorns along with twenty ponies and fifty dogs. They all told her as much although she insisted that it would be possible and was prepared to prove it come the 25th of the month. Orla, Clare and Michelle continued arguing over the first's Christmas gift list and soon began to walk away from James and Erin, who decided not getting involved would be for the best. Erin had noticed James's silence on the way back, only speaking a couple of times to either voice his agreement or disagreement to a point. Now that she had him alone, she was determined to find out why.

"Something up James?".

He seemed to awaken out of a trance at the sound of her voice and stuttered into a reply.

"I..erm… no I'm fine".

"Aye, you sound it". She spoke sarcastically in turn. "Seriously, what is it?"

James did not willingly provide an answer to her question, only laughing lightly and continuing to play nervously with the strap of his bag, a trait that Erin had picked up on before.

"Is it the horses again?".

James's head shot around at her question and Erin felt a wave of satisfaction from knowing that she had figured it out. She'd known him long enough for him to know that he couldn't hide the truth from her. Stupid Limey.

"That might be part of it…". He finally mumbled a confirmation

"You shouldn't have started doing it for him in the first place. You can't keep up the winning streak forever so just tell him no more when we get back".

"I know but… he's been good to me Erin".

"Jesus James. I don't think Granda will ban you from visiting if his bet falls at the last".

James sighed and Erin took further delight in being right again, with the Englishman silently conceding that she would be right, and he had to tell Joe that enough was enough. What started as James giving out some friendly information one morning before school when sitting next to Joe, quickly turned into a daily habit of tipping. From the fourteen tips that James had given him so far, Joe had seen fourteen winners in return and a further three tips for that afternoon had James on edge. The Quinn household was only a few doors away and he would soon find out how happy Joe would be to see him.

"What about the other part?" Erin picked the conversation back up, garnering James's attention again after it had drifted away.

"Uh-Yeah. I've been meaning to ask…".

"Oi! What are you two whispering about?".

Both looked up quickly to find Michelle stood still on the path a little way in front of them, just outside the door to the Quinn's. Erin embarrassingly found herself a little red faced, not that she was doing anything wrong by talking to James, but not involving the others had bound to have raised Michelle's suspicions. James too seemed to blush and that certainly accounted for the inquisitive look on his cousin's face as she eyed her two red-faced friends walking up towards the rest of them.

"Just talking about horses actually Michelle". James replied confidently

"Horses? Yeah right because Erin's interested in the gambling advice you give to Joe. Come on, let's get in and listen to some fuckin' music".

Grateful that Michelle had let the matter go, the two of them followed her inside, with Orla and Clare ambling in behind the already party ready Mallon. Not that it would be much of a party at the Quinn house.

Mary greeted the wains as they all trudged in from out of the cold, shouting out from the kitchen where she would no doubt be incessantly cleaning. James quickly took off his coat and hung it up on a peg, hoping to get upstairs to the sanctity of Erin's room to avoid an ear bashing from Joe had the bets turned out badly. One of them had been a real gamble, an overconfident James had decided to risk it at the dinner table that morning, but the decision had been eating away at him all day and the more he thought of it, the more certain he was that it would lose. Unfortunately for James, Joe appeared to have been waiting to pounce, as the older man announced his presence at the top of the stairs, blocking James's hopes of escape.

"Afternoon Granda!" Orla cheerfully shouted up.

"Afternoon Orla love". Joe gave her a soft smile before returning his eyes to James.

"How ye keeping Joe". Michelle asked.

"Grand thanks. You girls run along, I need a word with young James here".

James's heart began to race quicker than any thoroughbred could when Joe asked them to leave the two of them alone. Even if Joe had taken him under his wing somewhat, he would never take the faith for granted and it appeared to him that the goodwill was about to end. The girls complied with Joe's request, Clare mouthing James 'Good luck' as she walked past. As sweet a gesture as it was, it did nothing to calm his nerves. The same could be for Erin's little smile as she walked past him, although he did find himself smiling back to her. As soon as the door to her room was shut, Joe's gaze became fixed upon him and a firmer hand than usual appeared on his shoulder.

"You son…". Joe paused and James's stomach began to turnover. "Are going to make me a rich old man! Three more feckin' winners!".

The slap on his other shoulder from the Quinn patriarch dissolved all of the nervousness and the pure elation of the incredible winning streak had hit him. James's interest in horse racing was a quiet passion and one that had waned during his first few months in Derry but the knowledge of form had never left and Joe's interest in the equine sport came as a frightfully lucky surprise. He was drawn away from his jubilations by Joe forcing something into his open hand. Looking down, it came as a shock to find money in it.

"That's your share for them all so far son. Don't go spending it all at once ye hear me?"

Joe didn't understand the glint of… _mischief?..._ in James's eyes but it also failed to cause the older man any trouble. The lad had earned the money by right and what he did with it was his business. Sending him on his way, Joe watched the retreating figure of the wee English fella up the stairs and became reminded of another young man he'd met many years before. That young man did not give Joe good betting tips however, instead frequently giving him a pain in his backside.

"Gerry! Is that kettle boiled yet ya useless Southern dose?!"


	2. Irish Sea Raider

Chapter 2: Irish Sea Raider 16th December 1995

After the excitement of James's bets landing for Joe, the girls had enjoyed a fun evening of singing and dancing. Mary had even allowed it for once, especially as they'd decided to actually complete their homework first and to what looked like a very high standard. Michelle managed to have fun without getting absolutely bladdered, but equally she could have been avoiding ingesting any further alcoholic intake due to the night before, as Clare suggested. The plan for Saturday had been made that night too. Christmas shopping. The beast had to be tackled at some point and, despite very modest budgets, they would all make sure they got each other something at the very least. Meeting at the Quinn's for half past nine, Clare arrived stereotypically early and sat in the living room with Orla and Erin awaiting the other two. A knock on the door at exactly half past signalled the start of their shopping adventure.

"MOTHERFUCKERSSSSSS".

Erin really detested Michelle's little catchphrase whenever she decided to use it. Especially when it was at her house because Mary thought little of it and if she'd heard, it wouldn't be the first time Michelle had received in earful in return. Thankfully she had not on this occasion, enabling them to bundle out the house and away without any trouble.

"Morning". James greeted them as they walked out, Erin gratefully nodding in return.

Setting off into town, the conversation flowed freely and happily. A typical December day played out around them. People donning warm coats and rushing around with Christmas in mind, visiting relatives and buying presents. Not that they cared. Michelle's update on Molly McNair was far more entertaining.

"I'm telling ye the truth!" An annoyed Michelle levelled at them all.

"Catch yourself on Michelle, that is rubbish, and you know it!". Erin argued back hysterically.

"Aye, you're a right mouth at times Michelle". Clare shared Erin's opinion.

"I'm serious".

"Is it though?" James questioned the so-called truth with a tilt of his head. "Incest seems a bit of an exaggeration to me".

"Typical English, doubting the Irish". Michelle huffed. "But really, that farmer was her old brother Billy I swear it. No wonder why his wife shot her, Christ I'd boke if I found my husband shagging his sister in a fuckin' haystack".

None of them were convinced, apart from Orla, who just nodded along whilst being mesmerised by the bag of sweets in her hand. James was offered one which he happily accepted and though nobody else seemed to be allowed any, none of them had raised an objection.

"How did ye find out about this anyway". Erin asked her

"After I left yours last night, I went and did a job and Danny Doyle told me. You know Danny, fat fuck with the wonky eye and no front teeth".

Erin nodded but quickly tried to get the image of Danny Doyle out of her head. He may have been the most grotesque young man in Derry, yet he always seemed to know about everything, which made him a valuable man for Michelle.

"You did a job?" James asked, clearly confused

"Aye".

"Hand or blow?"

The orange juice that Erin was drinking shot out of her mouth like a ball from a cannon when Orla voiced her disgusting thought to Michelle. Clare made a noise that could only be described as a shriek at the sudden crassness of her friend. Michelle's eyes rapidly widened in offence at Orla's suggestion.

"Orla!" James protested

"What? They were doing those jobs on that VHS Dennis sold me last week. I'm not lying, they're real jobs ye know!"

Not wanting to go into the true nature of the jobs with Orla, and Michelle for once being completely lost for words, Erin decided the conversation needing moving on. Mind you, she was going to make sure Dennis got a piece of her mind on Monday morning.

"Anyway, where are we heading first?"

"I reckon we should hit the sweet shop first, get all the good stuff before the wains do or I'll have to get me knife out…".

"Woah ok! Orla, you did not bring a knife!". Clare screeched

"Aye ye can never be too careful Clare, things get real nasty when the bonbons start runnin' out".

Twice in as many minutes Orla had stunned the group into a silence, which forced the agreement that they would be off to the sweet shop first, just like she wanted. James did sometimes wonder whether the free spirit was just a façade for an evil genius that always got what she wanted through the act she put on. If it was, it was some performance.

* * *

After a while, James remembered just how much that shopping, even if under the pretences of being for Christmas, could never and would never interest him. After Orla had ransacked the sweet shop like a rampaging Viking, their second port of call had been a clothes shop. Unwilling to act as clothes stand for the one hundredth time, James decided to part ways with the others to get the items he wanted. It had only taken him about twenty minutes, and he was soon back with the girls, who were still looking at the clothes. Orla had at least joined him outside as she too had a lack of interest in trying to find new clothes, so they conversed amicably, playing out with the occasional outburst from Michelle in the background.

"Ye might be related to that Cromwell fella ye know James".

"I doubt it somehow Orla".

"It'd be cracker if you were, we could go and raid villages together".

James laughed at the suggestion that the two of them could lead a pillaging through Claudy or Ballykelly in the 20th century. His response didn't impress Orla, who clearly wanted to do so.

"I don't think it would be looked upon kindly in this day and age".

"Aye well, that Cromwell fella is a hard act to follow so he is".

Being English, Orla sticking up for Oliver Cromwell did not bother James, but he was glad it was him listening to her bizarre love for the man so hated in Ireland and not any of the others. Erin in particular had expressed her wish for Orla to cease any further notion of the man's existence on a number of occasions and Clare would often roll her eyes at it.

A couple of minutes later, they all came out of the shop, shopping bags in hand and triumphant looks across their faces like they were on a catwalk. James looked up to find the odd scene and scanned them with a furrowed brow, his eyes remaining on Erin for just a second longer than they should. Michelle seemed to notice the extra second and was about to raise an objection to it when something else caught her eye from a couple of shops down. Jenny Joyce and her family seemed to be walking up towards them but there was one member of the group that she did not recognise. A blonde girl, of a similar height to James, with a streamlined body and beautifully long legs sauntered along next to Jenny. Five mouths appeared to fall open because in comparison to the girl stood next to her, this blonde was completely stunning. With features of a high-end model, there was no doubt that she was more beautiful than anyone they had seen, perhaps even themselves. As Jenny and the mysterious girl approached, they closed their gaping mouths and prepared for the typical cheery onslaught.

"Hi guys!" Jenny gleefully addressed them.

"Aye, morning Jenny". Michelle gruffly responded. "Who's this?"

"This is Harriet, a friend of mine from England". That sentence got all of their attention, taking them completely aback. "Harriet, these are the ones I told you about. And that's James, your countryman that goes to my school".

"I am not alone in the Emerald Isle then". She joked to James.

"Am I being relieved of my post?" He joked back.

They both laughed at the banter that they'd fallen into and shared mutual looks of affection, causing Erin and Michelle to scowl at him. Her accent was even more eloquent than his, the elocution of each word in perfect Queen's English.

"Maybe you can show me around a bit. Perhaps we could meet up after you have finished school on Monday. As long as you don't mind Jenny?".

"Fine by me, I'll be staying late for choir practice".

"Shall we meet here then, half past four?" Harriet turned back to James

"Sounds good to me". He smiled, still trying to ignore the daggers being thrown at him from his friends. They really weren't pleased, and he knew it.

"That's a date then". Harriet grinned.

"Sorry guys, but we best be getting on before my parents tell us off. I'll see you all on Monday".

Politely nodding to Jenny Joyce, for possibly the first time ever and hopefully the last seeing as it had only happened due to the startled trance that had befallen the group, they watched her walk away with Harriet. Once they'd disappeared from view, James knew he was about to face the music and Gary Barlow wasn't writing the song he was about to hear.

"What the fuck James!". Michelle started

"What?" He shrugged in return

"Are you serious? Possibly THE best-looking girl ever seen in Derry just walked up and asked ya out. What the fuck!"

"So?"

"So? So, what the fuck is wrong with her? I mean I know she's English but ye aren't exactly good looking, even for an Englishman".

"And she's Jenny Joyce's friend James! I swear if we have to put up with Jenny Joyce on an even more regular basis, I will break!" Clare hissed

The others voiced their agreement for Clare's point and James could only sigh in a manner akin to Sister Michael rather himself. Empathy for the headmistress was a new feeling indeed.

"She probably just wants to be reminded of home, have someone to talk to. Besides, as you say Michelle, I'm hardly good looking, am I?"

He didn't know whether testing the water had been his objective or whether he'd spoken out of complete self-deprecation instead, but whatever the reason, he looked straight to Erin as he finished. The other three were too busy quietly agreeing with him, or in Michelle's case sarcastically bowing to him upon being proclaimed right, so they didn't see where his head turned. Erin had immediately looked away but not before a river of rosiness ran through her cheeks, lighting her up like the big tree at the shopping centre entrance.

"I like her".

James shot his head back around to find the unexpected support of Orla. She had remained quiet up until that point, which James had taken as her interest in the sweets, but the tone of her voice appeared to suggest her opinion was genuine.

"I reckon she's related to Cromwell. Can ye ask her for me James?"

It was the final straw for Erin. Sounding a very theatrical growl, she stormed off in the direction of the exit, without a word to any of the others. Setting off in pursuit of their angered friend, Michelle rounded on James with her eyes, giving him a look to suggest that it was his fault that Erin had ran off. He couldn't help but feel victimised when in fact it was Orla bringing up Oliver Cromwell again that had sent her over the edge and into a burning rage. His own actions a mere few moments before had meant nothing to Erin of course. _Yes James, of course they hadn't._


	3. Oliver feckin Cromwell

Chapter 3: Oliver feckin Cromwell 17th December 1995

_16th December_

_Christmas Shopping._

_I had been looking forward to it all week. We all had, I guess._

_But it was shattered. Shattered by this girl who arrived on the scene. An English girl, a girl that normally wouldn't bother us sans the English bit. She isn't beautiful at all, despite what everyone else seems to think. Michelle and Clare have it in their heads that she is some sort of exotic goddess from a distant land of perfection. All the way home they wouldn't shut up about how perfect her hair was, how well toned she appeared or how her legs were like something out of a beauty magazine. Christ, I want to boke just thinking about this girl._

_It started when we saw this blonde walking along with Jenny Joyce of all people. She could have just moved on, continued shopping with Jenny and her family as she was supposed to have done but no she had to stick her pretentious Limey nose in it didn't she!. The bitch went straight for James thanks to Jenny's stories of another Brit in Derry and James, being desperate as he is, decided to reciprocate. Orla seemed more interested in her family history but at least Michelle and Clare had shared their disgust to him. Or so I thought._

_By the time we got back here, after all the talk of her beauty, Michelle and Clare had swapped sides! Michelle even gave James advice to help him with this Harriet. Are they blind!? She is clearly a pompous tart and is only using James because she can't get anything else. No one else cared when Katya tried to stick her evil claws into him, and I maintain to this day that she was just using him for her own sick desires. Friends are supposed to look out for each other for heaven's sake!_

_Once again, I seem to be the only one willing to help James, so I guess it is up to me to stop Harriet and the revolting game she has started with my wee English fella._

Sneaking into Erin's room and finding her diary open and unguarded at the first smatterings of light, Orla had looked forward to reading the next part of her cousin's life story. A few days had passed since she'd last gotten hold of it, which meant she had plenty to look forward to. But coming to the final entry for the previous day, Orla sat on the floor rubbing her temple at the confusion it had caused her. Erin seemed to really hate Harriet and considering they had only seen her for about two minutes, Orla didn't know why her cousin had taken such a disliking to the Brit. After all, Harriet could be related to Oliver Cromwell and Erin's attitude to her could become a real problem if they decided to ransack Coleraine. She also found it strange that Erin had seemed to claim James for her own. It was very selfish of her to say he was "her" wee English fella; he was "their" wee English Fella.

"Aye, bizarre that". Orla said to herself as she closed the diary

Silently retreating out of the room and back to her own, thoughts of conquering Ireland with Harriet flooded Orla's head and she soon found herself drifting back to sleep, in total peace.

* * *

Drilling.

Then nothing.

More drilling.

"Christ keep up Gerry!".

Granda Joe.

More drilling.

"I'm ready for the next roof panel Joe".

James… _James!_

Erin finally woke up when she heard the voice of the wee English fella from the back garden. Taking a look at the time, it was only half past eight on a Sunday morning and James was already at her house. Unexpectedly. She had no idea that he would be there, he hadn't mentioned it on their Christmas shopping trip and she hadn't seen him speak to either her Da or Granda about it. In truth she did not know whether she wanted to see him anyway. Erin thought she had put on the bravest of faces for the rest of the day after the shopping centre but when she'd opened her diary to write that night, she couldn't disguise the worry and… hurt in her writing. Harriet had no right to go up to James and ask him out like that, and he had no right in accepting her straight away either.

Finding herself drawn to the window, Erin rose out of bed and tiptoed across. Yet another cold morning had been bestowed upon them and she put her slippers on to avoid the freezing floor. Drawing back the curtains and looking out, she saw James atop the roof of Granda's new shed, straddling the ridge. He was reaching down to secure one end of a panel, with Gerry on step ladders holding the other end and passing it up. Joe was on a set of step ladders himself with the offending drill that had helped to rouse her, ordering the other two around like he did regardless of whether they were building a shed or not. Orla was out with them too and had been given the responsibility of manning the toolbox, where she played with the hammers and saws that sat within it. Despite the raw nip of the early morning air, Erin opened the window slightly to listen in.

"A bit more Gerry". James called out

"Easy does it". Joe glared at his son-in-law

Eventually the panel rested in place and James began to hammer away at the far end to get it secured whilst Joe attempted to drill the other end in place. Gerry kept a watchful eye on proceedings, especially on James, who not for the first time sat precariously on a Quinn roof.

"Ach Christ, I need another drill for this". Joe surmised. "I'm off to Jim's, you're in charge tell I get back James son. Keep your eye on the Southern shite here".

Joe pointed at Gerry, who concealed the bristling that he truly felt and only rolled his eyes at the rather predictable insult hurled his way. As Joe walked away, Orla got up from her seated position by the toolbox and strolled over to her Uncle Gerry, who had come down from his ladder. James finished hammering his end and edged forward to talk to them both.

"All done that end son?" Gerry asked

"Safe and secured". He confirmed

"Ach Uncle Gerry, James has a date after school tomorrow!".

The mentioning of it, especially with additional wonderous vigour from Orla, made James blush deeply and he tried to hide his face away. Gerry knew he would, he had been in that position at James's age, and instead chuckled lightly at the knowledge. Not one of them knew of the angry grumble Erin gave when she heard Orla's comment from afar.

"A date? Who's the lucky girl then James".

"It's not…".

"Her name is Harriet". Orla chimed in before James could clarify the situation, much to his dismay. "She's English and I reckon Oliver Cromwell might be her Granda!"

"Is that so?" Gerry pretended to be surprised at her thoughts but shot James a quick glance to show that he was amused by it.

"It's not a date". James finally got chance to say his piece. "I think she just wants a friendly face to talk to rather than listen to Jenny Joyce all day, even if are they are friends".

"She said it was a date!" Orla argued

James went to argue back but Gerry's sixth sense to the nature of the arrangement allowed him to speak on the Englishman's behalf.

"I think she meant it as a joke Orla love. I'm sure James thought so too".

Erin almost stuck her head out of the window to hear the response, but as James went to reply, the bedroom door opened behind her to the perplexed face of her mother. Erin jumped back from the window, her left hand still being on the handle caused it to close with her as she did. When she turned around, she was as bright as beetroot, something which appeared to delight Mary.

"Get yourself dressed, we've got church and you've not had any breakfast!". A stern Mary commanded her.

"Yes Mammy".

Erin mumbled the response and walked over to her wardrobe, picking out what she would wear for Sunday morning mass. Mary left immediately but not without knowing that a theory she had been stewing over in her own head for some days, had been partially proven. Not that anyone else knew about it. It was the little things like that in life that made her smile, and Baby Anna's cries from downstairs reminded her of another little thing that made her smile.

* * *

One Church service later and Erin returned home. Church only very occasionally interested her, and it was more of a chore than a pleasure, especially when Mary continuously reminded her of the importance of attending. Granda Joe missed it, a very rare occasion indeed, as he had stayed behind to finish the roof of with James. He insisted the two of the could get the job done by the time they got back but could spare them Gerry, which was a deal that pleased all parties. Mary and Maureen Malarkey set eyes upon each other at Church, the paper incident of two weeks prior still very much at the forefront of both women's minds. Erin had joined her mother in the stare down too, until an enemy of her own showed their face at Church. Harriet.

When Jenny Joyce and family strolled in to take their seats near the front, Erin caught sight of the blonde by Jenny's side. That started it. Every so often during the service she had cast a glance at the intruder, who seemed to have the eyes of most of the lads their age on her too. _Not that it was because she was beautiful, she was just new…_ Erin had convinced herself during the mass. That should have been the end of it, but walking out of the Church, Jenny and Harriet caught up to Erin and Orla. Jenny's parents had started chatting with Mary, Gerry and Sarah in front too, so for Erin, there was no means of escape.

"Hi girls!" Jenny cheerfully greeted them.

"Hello again". Harriet also offered her greetings.

"Alright Jenny". Orla nodded and to her side, Erin offered a very forced smile. "And Harriet, I have been buzzin' to ask ye a question".

Erin's instinctive reactions took over, and the look of disbelief she sent Orla contained the sort of venom that a deadly spider would be proud of. It was even worse that she knew what the question would be.

"Is Oliver Cromwell your Granda?"

Harriet's immediate soft laughter at the question had not only Erin, but Jenny annoyed and the two of them both shared bemused expressions. Orla too seemed confused by Harriet laughing at her profoundly serious question.

"I cannot say that I am…" Harriet replied sweetly, searching for a name.

"Orla. Orla McCool". A slightly dejected Orla complied

"I apologise that I am not Orla, but if you are interested, I have a book with me about Oliver Cromwell".

Orla's face lit up at the comment and Jenny too softened at the pleasantries that were shared between the girls. Erin stood flabbergasted at them and remained in that state all the way home, even if she managed to put up a mask to disguise it. Inside, there was no disguising how much she had come to despise this English girl, with her crisp accent and soft laugh. She would find something on Harriet, something to make James realise that he was being used again just like he had been by Katya. Erin made that her mission.

Once they got back into the garden at home, Joe's assurance that the job would be done by the time they were back proved to be correct. Joe and James were clearing away the tools and in deep conversation when they noticed the crowd at the bottom of the garden eagerly eying their handiwork. James looked to Erin but did not receive the typical smile in return, something that caused his brow to furrow in confusion.

"You've done a grand job there da". Sarah addressed Joe

"Aye thanks love. Couldn't have done it without the wee English fella though". Joe slapped James's shoulder, the young man grinning at the compliment.

"I hope you've paid him this time Joe". Gerry enquired

"Who said it was your business ye nosy shite?" Joe wagged his finger at him. "I'm giving the lad a lift home, that's his payment".

"Joe…".

"I appreciate the practical lessons more than the cash. It's okay Gerry, honestly". James cut in

"Ye see, that is a gentleman Gerry. Why can't you ever be grateful like that ye mouthy eejit!"

Mary's jab into her husband's side stopped him from continuing the argument any further and he turned back to go inside, ignoring the triumphant smile Joe wore from seeing him back down. Sarah, Mary and Baby Anna followed suit, not before Mary gave her father a look to warn him from any further verbal assaults on Gerry, much to Joe's annoyance. Orla ran up the garden to hug James goodbye and jumped into his open arms, a pleasant if unexpected surprise that seemed to amuse Joe as they caught his laughter from behind them. Walking down to the bottom of the garden, where Erin fidgeted with her coat, Orla took the opportunity to inform James that he was no longer needed for the Cromwell fact finding mission. Though he didn't show it, he was pleased that he did not have to bring it up with Harriet the next day.

"I'll see you in the morning Erin". James smiled as he walked past

"Ye. Bye James".

Erin did not make eye contact with him and by the half-hearted tone of her reply, James became aware that he must have done something for her to be so distant with him. Reconciling with her would have to wait until the morning because he had an afternoon of learning how to drive with his Uncle Martin and Michelle, and all his attention soon went to that.


	4. Date

Chapter 4: Date 18th December 1995

Trying to find an appropriate time to address whatever issue lingered between himself and Erin had become a challenge for James. He knew it would have to be at school somewhere; the school bus was hardly the place for such a conversation. Yet the opportunity did not appear to want to present itself, for Michelle persisted on going on all morning about one thing or the other and he found himself unable to draw Erin aside for even a couple of seconds.

"I still don't believe this Molly McNair stuff Michelle". Clare, for once completely calm, put to her friend. "Your ma isn't supposed to discuss things about patients, patient confidentially ye know".

"For fuck's sake Clare, she's me ma. It's not like I'm shouting it from the rooftops".

"It's still wrong!" A more agitated Clare responded.

"Wrong? Molly McNair shagging her brother and carrying his wain is fine but me ma telling me their family funny business is a crime?! Catch yourself on Clare".

"I didn't know Billy McNair had a wain". Orla spoke up

"No Orla, he…she… ach never mind". Michelle decided against explaining the obvious to Orla and instead turned to the still frowning Clare on her other side.

"I wonder what'll happen to it".

"That thing will come out looking like Frankenstein's monster, that's for sure". An unsympathetic Michelle uttered, causing the others to draw sharp breaths. "What? We all know what will happen, don't act so fuckin' surprised".

Looking back to find both Erin and James unimpressed with her comments, Michelle grumbled, pushing the set of double doors open in front of them and heading down the corridor towards the canteen. Orla looked to have something on her mind and when she had finished with the lollipop that she'd be sucking on for the past few minutes, vocalised those thoughts.

"I don't know what will happen".

Michelle grumbled again, this time at Orla's general lack of knowledge on those matters.

"Wait, does it have anything to do with Oliver Cromwell?"

Four voices answered in unison.

"No".

That told Orla, who pulled out another lollipop and returned to her own little world of thoughts as they turned into the canteen area. Seeking only a drink each, they were caught off guard by Jenny Joyce and her little group of friends coming out of the canteen and they had no time to get out of the way before her wave of positivity drenched them. It was bad enough to hear her singing every morning but an overly positive Jenny Joyce before that had even taken place was a headache inducing recipe.

"Oh guys! Glad I caught ye". Jenny smiled, and all of her friends followed her lead and did so in synchronisation too. "Harriet gave me the Cromwell book for Orla, I have it in my wee bag here".

"Oh Cracker!" Orla shouted, drawing the attention of everyone else in the canteen.

"For Christ's sake Orla!" Erin angrily whispered behind her.

Jenny's wee bag looked like a handcrafted rucksack, certainly of fine material and a reflection of the cushy lifestyle she enjoyed compared to the rest of them. Pulling the book out, Orla nearly snatched it out of her hands and straight away turned to page one, soon lost to the world with her nose in it, only breaking out of her concentration to ask Jenny to thank Harriet. Jenny and her group went to walk away but she turned back around again, signalling they were not done for yet.

"Oh I almost forgot, Harriet asked me to tell James here that she'll be outside the café at half past four. Don't be late!". Jenny exclaimed far too cheerfully.

James nodded his thanks but missed the sour glare of anger and annoyance that adorned Erin's face at Jenny's message. Instead he was drawn to the smirking Michelle.

"Is that a stiff one James?". She dipped her head down in the direction of his trousers.

"Wha-"

Falling for one of the oldest tricks in the book, James looked down and took the full force of Michelle's playful but forceful slap to the face. The other three snickered at it like they always did, and he forced himself to see the funny side of it, even if his cheek suggested otherwise.

"Thanks Michelle".

Heading off to buy their drinks, James still waited for his chance to talk to Erin and find out exactly what had made her so annoyed with him.

* * *

The day had been a monotonous one, and with ten minutes to go in their final lesson, the girls couldn't wait to finally get away. Nothing of note had happened since their morning run-in with Jenny Joyce and the Geography lesson that completed their day had been so tedious that even the teacher had lost interest. James finally found his moment to address Erin's animosity towards him with her at lunchtime, but he still wasn't completely satisfied at the outcome. With the other three off to the toilet, he quizzed her and immediately Erin apologised for her behaviour, citing that she hadn't been feeling well. He accepted it, of course, but for some reason doubted that the matter was truly resolved. It felt to him as if she had made it up just to get him to forget about it. A rushed excuse similar to that of a suspect pulled over during one of the Police documentaries that they liked to watch. A poorly contrived lie. However, when Erin began to smile at him again and even extended as far as to share a joke with him, James decided not to push any further on the issue. A happy Erin made him happy. _Very happy._

The door to the classroom creaked open and all of the bored students, slouching onto their desks, were quickly sat up and intrigued by the visitor. That intrigue soon wore off when Sister Michael walked into the room, however. Sister Michael turning up unannounced right at the end of the day could only mean one thing. Trouble.

"I see your class is enjoying the lesson about glaciation across Ireland Mrs O'Meara, not even a roaming Polar Bear could break their concentration".

Orla was about to open her mouth to argue from previous dealings with a Polar Bear, but Clare whispered a warning not to and she heeded it. Mrs O'Meara simply contrived to smile gently at the headmistresses' famous wit.

"Right girls, the Bishop himself has decided that he will be attending Our Lady Immaculate's choir practice after school. A mystery that only the Lord knows the answer too…".

Sister Michael trailed off slightly, with James quietly sniggering at her sarcasm from his seat in the corner.

"But two members of the choir have had to go home poorly this afternoon and I will not have the Bishop asking any questions as to why our choir is two members short because I simply lack the patience to put up with that man. With that in mind, I have picked two students from this class to replace them".

If any of the students had feigned listening to Sister Michael, they weren't now as they all almost jumped up and widened their eyes at the prospect of having to sing. Apart from Jenny and her friends, as they were of course already a part of the School choir, being the good girls that they were. Every other student silently prayed that their name would not be falling from Sister Michael's lips a couple of moments later.

"Miss Mallon, Miss McCool, you will join the rest of the choir by the hall after the final bell goes".

A collective sigh of relief came from everyone, including the chosen Orla, at their names not being the ones called out. The same could not be said for Michelle.

"What! I'm not singin'!".

"Yes. Yes you are". Sister Michael coolly reinforced her decision.

"No. I refuse. I'd rather take the detention for not doing it".

"Detention is with me Miss Mallon".

"Fine".

"And I am taking the choir practice so your detention will be done there".

An exasperated Michelle threw her hands in the air theatrically, annoying Sister Michael and eliciting behaviour which caused the whole class to stare at her. Lifting her head up to find them all doing so, Michelle turned her fury again on the headmistresses.

"How are me and Orla meant to get home?" She argued with a smirk, believing the Sister would not have cared to think about such a detail.

"I've already phoned your parents and your father will collect both yourself and Miss McCool once I have released you from choir practice".

Defeated, Michelle loudly groaned and banged her head on the desk. A satisfied Sister Michael dismissed herself from the class but before exiting, looked back in the direction of James.

"And James, he'll also pick you up from your…". The sister stopped to produce a dramatic cough. "…date, afterwards".

James's cheeks went bright red as his plans for after school were revealed to their whole class. Sister Michael chuckled and made her exit, and soon all the attention came away from Michelle and onto him, as the other girls in the class teased and pried him for information on who he was meeting. The Englishman soon found himself reiterating a familiar phrase.

"It's not a date".

* * *

James had never been more relieved to get out of a classroom in his life, apart from the possible exception of his first day and the bin incident. Having a whole class of girls round on him about who he was dating, or wasn't as he insisted, made him appear like a lion in a stampede of elephants. The bus journey back to the town centre was quieter than usual, likely due to the lack of Michelle, instead Clare led the conversation about what they had been taught in their Science lesson earlier in the day. Erin had been quiet throughout the trip back, further reinforcing James's suspicions that there was more to her story of not feeling well than she had admitted. Still, she didn't show the previous signs of open hostility towards, so he decided once again to let the issue resolve itself. He knew from experience with the group that they tended to in time.

Walking along towards the shopping centre, the three of them all witnessed the condensed clouds of their own breath under the streetlights, a sign of the temperature beginning to drop.

"Jesus it's cold!" Clare shivered and practically cried out.

"You can have my coat if your cold Clare". James offered.

"No! No! As nice an offer as it is James, you'd freeze without it". Clare said in return, a point he conceded willingly. "Thank ye anyway".

Erin failed in her attempts to ignore the way that her heart softened when James acted in such a gentlemanly manner. The same way it had softened when she had opened the door to him on prom night. The same way it softened whenever she saw him. As it did again when she looked up to his smiling face that very second. _God he is beautiful…_

A nervous gulp bought her out of her daydreams. Daydreams that had crossed a boundary. Fastly deciding that perhaps her lie about being ill had some truth to it, it would at least explain her daydreaming, she focused again and saw the big tree at the shopping centre entrance just in front of them.

"Right, well I guess this is where we part ways". James stopped just before the tree.

"No". Erin spoke up before Clare could, with both her and James looking at Erin like she was deluded.

"You two aren't coming in with me!" He protested.

"Ye, we are!" Erin firmly countered

"We are?" Clare, thoroughly baffled, enquired with Erin.

"I want to have a look at something, unless that's a problem with ye Mr D'Arcy'".

The animosity returned in one sentence and James only stopped himself exploding at her because of their public surroundings. Erin looked to Clare to try and support her, leaving Clare in an unfair dilemma as to what to do and who to side with.

"Well, I do need the loo, so I guess…"

"That's settled then". Erin held her head up high, just slightly avoiding eye contact with an irritated James. "Enjoy your date with Harriet".

Erin brushed passed him and off into the shopping centre, with Clare mouthing James what he took as an apology for Erin as she set off in pursuit. Standing outside the shopping centre and watching them walk away, there was a mix of satisfaction from knowing Erin had lied to him that lunchtime and also confusion, because he couldn't understand her sudden behavioural change in the past couple of the days. _Maybe I never will,_ he mused in his own head.

Not wishing to dwell on it for long, he moved inside and off to the café, to find a bubbly Harriet stood outside already waiting for him.

* * *

Ha! She knew it!

The others had been fooled by the Limey seductress but not Erin!

It hadn't even been five minutes into their meeting, and she was already wrapping herself around James. Granted, it was not the same as when Katya launched herself into an impromptu match of tonsil hockey with the wee English fella but this made Erin feel worse. Much worse. She wanted to get closer, understand her nemesis's intentions better so she could confront Harriet and send her packing. There was another pillar just up from her and…

"Erin!" Clare's furious whisper caused her to freeze on the spot. "What are you- Are you spying on James!?"

Thankfully, Clare could not see her face and the immediate guilt that washed over it when her friend stated exactly what she was doing. Not that she was doing it obviously…

"She's trouble, I told you's and ye didn't listen". She whispered back, gesturing for Clare join her.

"What?" Clare shuffled up alongside her and eyed the scene, where James was sat talking to a smiling Harriet.

"She was ALL over him the minute they got in there, clinging to him like he was the last lifeboat on the Titanic she was! She's using him just like Katya did!"

"My god!" Clare shrieked through gritted teeth. "You're jealous of her!"

"I am not!".

Erin did not know what came over her as she grabbed Clare by the arm and pulled her back into the pillar. Clare's shocked squeak hit Erin hard and she immediately loosened the grip on the arm of her friend and backed away. Words failed her as she looked up, with tears forming around her eyes, but Clare did not show any sign of hostility to her and instead gave her a compassionate smile.

"I think we should go now". Clare quietly suggested

Agreeing with a nod of her head, Erin fought a losing battle to try and blink back the tears that had crept upon her. Once they made it a short distance away from the shopping centre, the two friends had hugged, and Erin explained to Clare that her actions were out of feeling self-conscious due to Harriet's good looks. It was obviously a lie, Harriet was only slightly good looking, but Clare bought it and that was good enough. Erin didn't like having to lie to one of her best friends and she spent the rest of the night pondering just exactly what the truth behind her actions were.


	5. Injustices

Chapter 5: Injustices 19th December 1995

Anna had been crying ever since Erin woke up and to say it had started to grate at her was an understatement. Despite the best efforts of all of the adults in the house, and even Orla, Anna refused to stop balling every two seconds. In truth, they were all at their wits end with the baby. She couldn't help it but the headaches it caused when Anna kicked off for so long were truly horrible and Mary started to worry why Anna hadn't stopped when the others turned up.

"MOTHER-"

Michelle stopped her delightful morning message when the sound of Anna crying hit her, to Erin's relief. Her friend angering her mother in her current state would be far from wise and Michelle for once took the correct course of action. Quietly moving through to the kitchen, they came upon the scene of Mary still rocking Anna in the middle of the living room and looking even more anxious than she did when Erin had left to answer the door.

"Morning wains". Joe spoke to the three new arrivals, all of them replying with the gestures themselves.

"She alright Mary?" Michelle gestured to Baby Anna in her mother's arms.

"Christ knows Michelle". Mary fretted in a similar manner to Clare. "She hasn't stopped crying all morning and I don't know why".

"Aye she's got some pair of lungs on her hasn't she Mary". Sarah added

"That she has Sarah but I didn't ask her to prove it. For god's sake, this rockin isn't workin!"

"Let me have a try".

Multiple stunned faces turned to James. The last person anyone would have expected to throw their hat into the calming the baby ring; the silence was rather pronounced around the room. Realising that he may have overconfidently stepped across the line and forgot one of his important lessons about keeping his mouth shut, James went to speak again but Mary got in first.

"Do ye know what to do?" She quizzed him

"I think so". James replied, walking over to her.

"We've all tried so what harm can it do. Here ye are James".

Mary handed baby Anna over to the wee English fella, who clasped her tightly into him and began to rock away. Within a few seconds, Anna had started to quieten down and before long, the baby was asleep on James' shoulder, snuggling into him a bit further. The whole household was stunned, Orla dropping her toast back down onto the plate with her mouth wide open. Gerry and Joe both produced the exact same expression of joyful disbelief, making James smile in return.

None of them could match Erin though. She had no time to put up any barrier to her emotions and the look of fondness across her face bordered on the dangerous if any of the others were to notice. Yet again, reasons unknown sent her haywire when it came to James and the sight of him rocking her baby sister to sleep set her heart leaping again. One day James would be able to repeat that trick on a child of his own and there would be one very lucky woman somewhere in the world to share it with him. But the stress of the morning, she hoped, caught Erin unawares and her mind plagued her with the vision of Harriet standing next to James, looking into the face of their child. The fondness in her face soon turned to anger and that itself would also be hard to explain if any of the others saw it. Luckily, they too were all lost in their own thoughts and none of them were aware of Erin's silent plight. She shook her head, hoping to shake the delusions that plagued her.

"You're good with a child for a wee gay fella". Sarah smiled at James.

"Again, not gay". James mumbled

"An extra rasher of bacon for James I think Mary". Joe said to his daughter, who had walked over and taken the sleeping Anna back from him.

"We don't have an extra rasher Joe". Gerry spoke up from beside the oven

"Then give him yours ye useless prick, he's earned it!".

Gerry sighed and transferred his own rasher over to the plate he had set out for James, feeling Joe's eyes on him until the moment the rasher came to rest. James soon joined them all in the kitchen, earning pats on the back from Clare and Michelle as he entered and took his place next to Joe. The newspaper was placed in front of him, open at the racing page, and James knew exactly what was being asked. The streak had been extended to nineteen since Friday and scanning down each racecard, James felt as determined as Joe to make it twenty. Michelle started up a conversation with Sarah about tarot cards, the two of them arguing with Clare about just how accurate the cards were. Gerry started handing out the plates of food to each of the girls and James tucked into his bacon sandwich as he finished up with the newspaper. Pushing the paper back in front of Joe, he pointed to the only horse that he believed was worth betting on that day. Joe took a closer look and his brows shot up, alarmed by the choice.

"He's 66-1! Are ye having me on son?"

"He won't be by the time they set off, trust me".

"James hasn't been wrong yet Granda". Erin suddenly jumped to his defence.

"But there hasn't been a 66-1 shot yet Erin". Joe replied with a stern, condescending tone.

"And you don't ever pay for his advice Granda". Erin foolishly decided to argue back.

"You haven't paid James for the shed roof yet either Joe". Gerry gently reminded him, another foolhardy action.

"Stay out of it you!" Joe barked back at him before looking back to the incensed Erin. "Ye can wipe that look of your face young lady or I'll have your ma give ye the wooden spoon!"

"It's not right…".

"Please Erin, it's fine". James softly interrupted her before she fell to fate described by Joe. "I appreciate your concern, but we have an arrangement when it comes to the horses. I don't think it is worth arguing over, do you both agree?"

Erin cooled off as James played peacemaker and secretly revelled in her Granda not completely getting away without paying the Englishman something. Whatever the agreement was, she knew it would be found out soon enough; arrangements like that usually made themselves known eventually. Joe had agreed to back off too and headed out to the bookies immediately to get the 66-1 before it could disappear as James suggested it would. Finishing their food, the girls were soon ready to head out, James helping Orla with her scarf before she strangled herself with it, as he had seen her do so on previous occasions.

"Ahem, James".

Mary called him over to the living room as they all walked towards the door. He briskly made his way to her, conscious of the little time they had to spare to get to school on time. What happened next took him by surprise as much as he had done so to them all earlier on, as Mary wrapped herself around him, engulfing him in her woolly jumper.

"Thank you, son,". She said as he pulled away from her embrace

"Anytime Mrs Quinn". He beamed back.

Mary shook her head at his reply. "Just Mary from now on ye hear me".

_I've completed the holy grail. Joe, Gerry and Mary…_

James did not vocalise the thought but with the knowledge that he now held most of the Quinn house on speaking terms, a positively glowing James returned to the others and set off on the journey to school.

If he ever had to prove to himself that staying in Derry had been the correct decision, this would certainly be the damning evidence.

* * *

All the talk between the girls on the way to school had been about James's remarkable calming effect on baby Anna. Michelle still tried and failed to comprehend why he had been able to succeed where the adults hadn't. It wasn't like he had experience with babies, therefore it became all the more baffling to his cousin as to how he managed it. James couldn't really offer much more either, but when pressed by Clare as to why he even offered, he stated he just wanted to try if nothing else. The usual accusations of him being a "soft English shite" or a "poncy Limey" came from Michelle but deep down she held him in a higher regard for doing it. Erin had thanked him too, her mind returning to a non-delusional and non-argumentative state the moment she had exited the house. She definitively accounted for her visions from the stress that the whole house had faced that morning and put them to the back of her mind. In time she would forget that they happened. They had continued to discuss it all the way up until they sat down for their first lesson of the day, just in time for Erin to realise what the lesson was. History. Oliver Cromwell.

Their History teacher only started a month before. Mr Flanagan, a man in his mid-fifties, sported thick rimmed glasses and dark hair, that contained strands of grey mixed within. He towered over everyone in the class, an impressive six foot six but was a gentle giant compared to some of the teachers at the school. He certainly entertained Orla, who had taken an instant liking to the man right from their very first lesson. Smiling at the front of the fifteen strong class, Mr Flanagan began the lesson.

"I'll be honest with you all". His unexpected start got their attention. "Today we should be doing a practice paper on what you have learnt so far this term".

That caused a few groans around the room, but those who had listened carefully still smiled for his choice of words indicated a change of plans.

"But between us all". He lowered his voice and whispered. "It's Christmas and I don't care what Sister Michael thinks about having a bit of fun. We will be having a quiz and lots of chocolate".

The cheers that came up from the students in the lesson reverberated around all four walls and Mr Flanagan had to tell them to keep it down to avoid the bat-like hearing of Sister Michael. He was then interrupted by a knock on the door and they all sighed, believing the teacher's plan had been discovered and it would be back to textbooks again. The look on the teacher's face suggested otherwise and he cheerfully resumed addressing them.

"Before we start, just for this week we have a new student joining us. Jenny, if you would please?"

Erin knew exactly who was about to come through the door and the rage that she persisted in trying to bury, suddenly manifested itself at the forefront of her mind. It was bad enough knowing that Harriet still resided in the area and could find James, but now having her at school with them for the rest of the week felt like a kick in the teeth. She had no right to turn up to school with them, it was an injustice that Sister Michael had let her join the school for the week. With the madness of Mae Cheung only just behind them, why had the school even taken the risk of accepting another pupil. Surely Sister Michael knew she was trouble. She might have been tough, but she was a smart woman, and Harriet's deviousness made itself so obvious that the headmistress must have spotted that the English blonde could not be trusted. Erin kept watch under narrowed eyes, not missing a beat when it came to Harriet.

She ignored the whole of Jenny's introductory speech of Harriet, to which the rest of the class were intrigued, even if she was another Limey. Coming to the end of her little monologue, Jenny received a late addition to the tale from the cheerful Orla.

"And she went on a date with James yesterday".

Equal parts scared and hopeful of the perceived mind reading that Orla had conducted on her, Erin couldn't help but chuckle at the discomfort it caused both Harriet and James. The others in the room giggled at the identity of James's mystery date being revealed, seeing as he wouldn't say during the intense questioning of the day before. Harriet found herself following the same line of defence as he had done.

"It was not a date". Harriet shyly tried to clarify.

"Well!". Mr Flanagan's booming voice moved them away from the teasing. "Whatever it was, thank you for making Harriet feel welcome in Derry Mr Maguire. Take a seat Harriet".

The blonde took her seat next to Jenny at the front but took a brief look over her shoulder at James who reciprocated a smile. Neither realised Erin had witnessed it with a burning rage entrenched with her chest. Mr Flanagan soon asked them to form four teams of four, and the middle finger from Michelle told James that he would be the one to be kicked out. By coincidence, the one team missing a member happened to be the team of Jenny, Harriet and Aisling so he took his seat with them. With the chocolate soon passed around the tables and the rules explained, Mr Flanagan began to reel off the questions.

* * *

The final question awaited them. Of the four teams, only the girls' team and Jenny's team remained in it to win it, tied on points after multiple rounds. It all came down to this one question. Mr Flanagan, creating a tense scene with a long pause, began to speak.

"In which year was Michael Collins assassinated?"

Erin searched her mind. She should know it, they covered it relentlessly the previous year. All she had to do was think. _Come on Erin, think… think… thi-…. Yes! I know it!_

Her hand went straight up into the air and from her position with her back to the teacher, she shuffled around to face him.

"Yes Harriet".

_WHAT! WHAT!_

In her excitement at knowing the answer, Erin had failed to spot that Harriet had managed to get her arm in the air first.

"1922".

"Correct!"

Jenny and Aisling cheered and embraced Harriet for winning them the quiz, James offering a small chuckle and smile to her too. Erin, aside from putting her hand back down, hadn't moved and simply stared at the celebrating victors on the other side of the room. Harriet was out to destroy their group, she was certain of it now, probably sent by Jenny after the many clashes they'd had with her over the years. Undermining Erin Quinn was not a sin that you just got away with and the thought of vengeance soon hatched within her head. Finally turning back to her team, she spotted the nonchalant looks of the other three and her annoyance only rose.

"Thanks for all your help team. Really grand effort you gave me there!"

"Oh Christ". Michelle murmured, aware of what the sarcasm usually signalled.

"We all gave answers Erin. It was a bit of fun, get over it". Clare spoke dismissively.

"Aye I got that one about Cromwell". Orla pointed out, Clare and Michelle nodding.

Orla really shouldn't have pointed that out because at that moment Erin reached boiling point and went off like a bull in a china shop.

"Right! Yeah ye did Orla… but ye know, ye are bound to get it right once WHEN YOU ANSWER OLIVER CROMWELL FOR EVERY FECKIN QUESTION!"

"MISS QUINN!". Mr Flanagan shouted

"SHUT UP!". Erin screamed back at him, the other students gasping. "AND YOU TWO! HMMM… SINCE WHEN WAS NAPOLEON SCOTTISH?"

"ERIN QUINN, OUTSIDE NOW!"

This time Mr Flanagan slammed his hand down on the desk and that seemed to get Erin's attention. She practically ran from the room, crying as she did, leaving behind a room of dazed and confused students who couldn't understand her outburst. The least of all Orla, who began to cry herself, saying to Michelle that she didn't like it when Erin got angry because it scared her. James returned to the group and pulled Orla into a hug to calm her down, which seemed to do the trick. Whilst they comforted her, Mr Flanagan excused himself and stepped outside to find Erin sat on the floor, her head in her knees, sobbing. Shutting the door, he took a step closer to her and crouched down, Erin looking up to see the History teacher directly in front of her.

"I think you and I need to have a wee chat after the lesson".

Expecting him to be angry and to send her off to face Sister Michael, Erin sniffled and dried her eyes when his tone was the opposite. Mr Flanagan seemed to be understanding of her plight… _of course! He knew Harriet was trouble too!_


	6. Voices of Angels

Chapter 6: Voices of Angels 20th December 1995

Word of Erin's antics had soon spread around the school that Tuesday afternoon and the five of them got looks and smirks wherever they went for the rest of the day. Erin held her chin up high, but they all knew every added smirk would bite away at her inside and could lead to another explosion. Thankfully, they made it through until the end of the day without another rant and on the way home, the five of them properly reconciled with a group hug. Erin had been incredibly apologetic, particularly with Orla who she upset the most, but they all waved away her apologies. Nothing would affect their friendship, not even Erin's raging beyond acceptability over a quiz. She chose not to say what was said between herself and Mr Flanagan, keeping it clandestine like James was doing with his arrangement with Joe. The rest of them didn't need to know about it and she made that very clear, not that it stopped Michelle from asking again anyway. James and Clare had exchanged a knowing look as she put across her reasons for the outburst. Neither decided to say what they were thinking but were smart enough and had known each other and Erin for long enough to know that it went beyond her natural competitiveness as she maintained.

James discovered that his winning streak with Joe had hit the magical number twenty the next morning but Joe decided that would be it, at least up until Christmas, and gave James his final winnings when he managed to speak to him alone outside. James's face had brightened mischievously, just like it had done the Friday before when Joe handed the winnings over, though once again the older man did not act upon what he saw. The mood between the girls had all returned to normal as they walked to school and when another student decided to bring up what occurred the day before, Michelle went after them viciously, having to be physically held by James so that she didn't send the girl into the Foyle. She had calmed by the time they'd gotten onto the bus, with Clare sat between her and Orla and James and Erin sat on the row behind.

"Ach, me ma told me something more about Molly McNair". Michelle whispered to them, James and Erin leaning forward to catch it.

"Apparently the parents turned up with the brother last night".

"What Billy!?" Clare, in shock, uttered.

"Aye. Caused a right fuckin' scene an' all".

"Did they start rollin' in the hay again?" Orla questioned her

"There's no hay in hospitals Orla". Michelle stared at her bemused. "The brother and the father had a massive scrap in the corridor, had to be pulled apart by the staff so they did. Me ma held the mother too…".

James and Erin both sank bank into their seats, uninterested by the rest of Michelle's gossip, which neither of them thought to be completely the truth. James looked at her, tilting his head towards Michelle and rolling his eyes, Erin giggling and playfully swatting his arm. For a brief moment their eyes caught, and the hearts of the two teenagers began to beat uncontrollably. Following the racing of her heart, Erin found the sudden urge to be closer to him and shuffled up to James on their row, neither understanding what the other wanted but knowing that the feeling was so… _right._

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH".

The brakes of the bus were suddenly applied and those at the front screamed as the bus came to a shuddering halt on a downhill section. Everyone was thrown forward in their seats as the bus braked hard and Michelle was thrown to the floor in the middle of the bus. The girls couldn't see what happened up front but that would come later as they were all drawn to Michelle's position. James jumped up from his seat straight away and bent down to see if she was hurt, relieved to hear her groaning and swearing the moment he called her name.

"Fuck me, that hurt". She grumbled

"Are you alright Michelle?"

"Ach, yea. I think".

"She might be dyin! She might be dyin!" Clare panicked and rushed down onto her knees next to James.

"I can't hear the voices of angels yet Clare. Ach Christ! Could ye give me a bit more support ya feckin' English prick".

James ignored the slight about his nationality, and helped Michelle back to her feet, checking her face for any cuts when she stood up. Stoically brushing away his hands, she returned to her seat, ignoring Clare and Erin's looks of concern. Orla, on seeing that Michelle was not indeed dead, became far more enamoured with drawing faces on the glass of the bus windows.

The source of the near accident soon became clear when they heard the argument that the bus driver was taking part in.

"The hell were you playing at, you were on the wrong side of the road!"

"Wise up ye free state bastard".

"Is that… Joe?". Michelle, her hand on her head, pondered.

None of them needed to answer because Joe's voice was unmistakable, although what he was doing out there would need to be explained. Orla came away from the window on hearing her Granda's voice, but Clare stopped her from rushing out to greet him with a forceful hand on her leg. Erin, meanwhile, put her hands over her face and tried to pretend she wasn't hearing it.

"Wise up!? You were on the wrong side of the road ye old dose!"

"Call me a dose again and I'll knock ye back to Cork where ya belong!"

"You threatenin' me?"

"I'm tellin ye! Now feck off".

The bus driver gave Joe a two fingered salute as he returned to his car and the girls watched a minute later as Joe sped off past the bus, back in the direction of home. Glowing red from embarrassment, Erin did not utter another word for the rest of the journey and found herself wanting to bury yet another situation that life had thrown at her.

* * *

After the eventful bus journey of that morning, the girls meandered through their favourite morning of the week. Wednesday morning was dedicated to Maths and Jenny Joyce found herself in the other group when they split the year in half. That meant a whole morning away from her positivity and teacher praising comments and for Erin, it meant not having to look at Harriet for a whole morning. Sitting up in bed the night before, Erin considered that perhaps Harriet did not have any malicious intent whatsoever and really was just Jenny's English friend. But the hug she had spotted between the girl and James that Monday evening in the café had meant too much. Harriet initiated it on the poor helpless James. And James being a gentleman hadn't pulled away. It was a very simple case of her taking advantage of the lad's good nature and he did not exist to be taken advantage of for another girl's passing fancy. He should be treated properly. Erin had nodded off after that thought but the strong feelings on the subject reared their ugly head inside her when the peace was broken at lunchtime. Sitting down for lunch, Orla was the first to spot the onrushing Harriet.

"Ach". Orla flicked her head in the direction of the English girl.

The face that the girl pulled was one of concern and it became evident that she was extremely worried as her pace could be described as at a jog when she got over to them.

"Are you all ok? I heard there was an incident on the school bus earlier and Michelle got hurt".

"I'm grand thanks Harriet but... ye know thanks for asking".

Erin noted Harriet's sigh of relief and couldn't help but wonder why she would care about Michelle when she was a friend of Jenny Joyce. Surely Jenny would have told her that Michelle was not exactly a person for her to associate with.

"We are all absolutely cracker Harriet!" Erin jumped into an almost melodic serenade, with all the subtly she usually radiated. "Is there anything else you'll be needing?"

For a brief second, Harriet's stance changed and what Erin perceived to be a look of anger flashed across the girl's face. _I've rumbled her!_ Erin thought to herself.

"Oh… erm yes, James". She turned her head to her countryman, who greeted her with a smile. "I'm ready whenever so shall we say tomorrow evening, half past five?"

James nodded but Harriet then committed a Derry cardinal sin and all James wanted to do the next second was run away. As far as he could. Run because she had winked at him, a friendly and innocent gesture the other side of the Irish Sea, but when a girl winked at a boy in Derry it meant something. Not for the first time in recent days, he found himself blushing and the rosy cheeked Englishman prepared for the forensic cross-examination that would follow.

"Wh-"

"Ach, Miss Mallon".

Saved by the headmistress, James said a silent prayer, Sister Michael cutting off Michelle before she had the chance to spit her fire at him. Clare confirmed her status as Captain cack attack when she started breathing out at a terrifying rate, unhinged by the headmistress coming to sit down next to her.

"Pull yourself together Miss Devlin!" She firmly reprimanded the nervous wreck to her left. "Christ anyone would think you are French with all that worrying".

Michelle sniggered at the comment, but Sister Michael soon forced her gaze upon the young Mallon, who smartly stopped, gulping in anticipation.

"How are you after the little incident on the bus this morning?"

"Fine".

"Monosyllabic… interesting. I do hope you will have sufficiently recovered to find the right words at choir practice this evening".

Sister Michael certainly found Michelle to be back to her normal self when Michelle decided to make her feelings known about choir practice.

"What! I'm not doin' that singin' again!"

"Am I?" Orla piped up, intrigued.

"I only need the one of you and for my own good, I think it is best that you do not return to the choir Miss McCool".

"Thank you Sister". Orla saluted her, a gesture that momentarily the headmistress thought about quizzing her on, but like most people would have done, decided to leave her to her own devices.

"The alternative, Miss Mallon, is that I complete a random spot check of your bag right now".

Unfortunately for Michelle, the headmistress outwitted her again and knowing the contents of her bag, silently conceded attending choir practice. Not that Sister Michael was finished with her just yet.

"I'll have the vodka as well Miss Mallon".

They all looked up at Michelle with widened eyes and found her grumbling, reaching into the bag to pull out the vodka without a care for the trouble she might get in. Sister Michael took the offending item and proceeded to get up and walk off without another word to anyone of them. Mouths hung open at Michelle's avoidance of getting into trouble for having alcohol at school but her own only opened to complain.

"That was fuckin' expensive stuff".

"I can't believe you sometimes!" Clare complained. "Come on Orla, I'll buy ye some sweets".

"Aye Aye Captain".

Clare stormed off, Orla in tow dreaming about sweets, leaving James, Michelle and Erin at the table. He too decided it was the right moment to detach himself, before the other two remembered the onslaught they were going to give him as Sister Michael turned up. Thankfully he managed it, heading off in the direction of the toilet with only a quick word to say where he was going before he darted. Erin watched him all the way to the end of the corridor, hoping he might turn around but sadly for her, he did not.

"What's up with you anyway". Michelle suddenly launched a question at her.

"Nothing, Why?" Erin replied, without looking at her friend

"You looked proper raging when Harriet turned up".

"If ya must know". Erin sighed in frustration. "I don't like her".

"What!? Why not?"

"She's trouble, I'm tellin ya…".

"Ach I see! You don't like it cus James is getting some and ye aren't".

"No! I… you need to rest that mouth of yours, the choir need your angelic voice tonight".

"Whatever Erin, ye can't hide the truth from me ye know".

Only just avoiding snarling at her friend, Erin knew Michelle to be wrong. She knew she could hide the truth from her; she was doing a good job of hiding it from herself.

* * *

Their final piece of homework for the year had been handed out that afternoon and they headed to the Quinn house to complete it, minus the choir practice bound Michelle, who would have to copy James's later. Nothing more had been said on the Harriet matter, Clare opting to rant about Michelle's scandalous behaviour when it came to alcohol instead but none of the other three were bothered about it. Orla had gone over twenty-four hours without mentioning Oliver Cromwell, to Erin's delight, and had instead started talk about Father Christmas. James seemed to enjoy that conversation and the two of them had rambled on about the best bits of Christmas right up until they got to the door of the house. Erin led the way in, calling out to her mother that they had arrived home.

"Where's Michelle?" Mary asked when she came upon the four hanging up their coats.

"Choir practice Aunt Mary. Sister Michael said she didn't need me, so I came home". Orla replied.

"Right. You wains going up to your room Erin?"

"Aye Mammy".

"I'll make ye all a hot drink, it's freezing out. Would you give me a hand James love?".

"Sure".

Erin searched her mother for a reason why she particularly wanted James, but Mary gave nothing away, so she led Clare and Orla up to her room to start the work without following it up. As they reached the top of the stairs, the front door opened again, and Mary looked back from deeper into the house to see Gerry coming in from his day at work. Her husband soon joined her and the wee English fella in the kitchen, James getting the mugs down from the cupboard.

"Good day today James?" Gerry struck up a conversation from his seat at the dining table.

"Not bad. Apart from the bus journey this morning…".

Gerry frowned at James's jest before looking to Mary who sighed.

"Da nearly caused the bus to crash this morning".

"Jesus Christ Mary! He really shouldn't be on the road".

"Ye alright Gerry, but I'll let you take it up with him next time and you see what reaction ye get".

That was one battle that Gerry refused to raise his standard for, and Mary could tell as much from the way his eyes shot around the room for a fleeting few seconds.

"How's it going with ye fancy woman then James".

The last thing James had been expecting when he offered to help was an interrogation, although being in Derry for so long now, he perhaps should have seen it coming. Scratching the back of his head nervously, he did not dare take his eyes away from Mary, the engineer of the situation he found himself in.

"It's not-".

"Look son, I know you're a good lad but ye still young and reckless. Believe it or not, we were your age once". Mary began.

"A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away…". Gerry quipped, then faced an unamused Mary.

"Quite…". She gave Gerry a thunderous look. "We know you've had a rough time of it lately, and we just want to go through a few things with you before you take it any further with this Harriet".

James had never really received THE chat before, but he had a fair idea of what it consisted of and it didn't take Jessica Fletcher to work out how awkward the next few minutes of his life were about to be.


	7. Penny Drop

Chapter 7: Penny Drop 21st December 1995

Thursday morning bought forward a new challenge for Derry.

Snow.

It had not been a heavy downfall, but the streets had a fair covering over them and with the added ice from the bitterly cold night, roads became treacherous. Mary had already told Joe that he would not be allowed out in the car and despite his protests to the contrary, she made sure of it. Erin and Orla were wrapped up with enough coats and scarfs to warm a small army and Sarah even walked with them to the bus stop to make sure they safely got onto the bus. Michelle, Clare and James met them at the stop that morning rather than making the journey over to the Quinn house. They were all wrapped up too, James showing evidence of being pelted by snowballs, a combination of other students and Michelle. A lone Englishman in a Derry snowball fight. Not good odds for making it out unscathed.

Some students hadn't turned up to school that morning, the pupils who lived a bit further out couldn't get in and that meant some of the classes ended up with just a few students in them. Their English class in particular was notably quiet; only the five of them, Jenny, Harriet and Aisling had presented themselves at the door first thing. Erin's passion for the subject provided an ample distraction from her disdain for the English girl, who seemed to have spent the whole lesson making everyone else in the room, teacher included, smile with some of her suggestions. Not that she threatened to knock Erin off her perch as best student in the class mind.

Michelle spent a significant part of the morning moaning about the previous night's choir practice and that theme continued on into the mid-morning break, where the five of them stood in line for the canteen.

"I'm telling ye, she can't force me to perform in front of the school. It's against the rules and ye know… human rights and shit".

"It's also against the rules to bring Vodka into school Michelle, ye should be counting yourself lucky not to be excluded!". Clare bit back

"Calm yer fuckin tits Clare, I wasn't drinkin' during school, was I?"

"I wouldn't put it past you". James conveyed to her.

"No one asked you Dicko!". She snapped back

"Didn't ask you to smuggle alcohol into school either did I?".

"Oooh". Michelle turned around to mock him with jazz hands, Orla and Erin turning with her. "Acting the tough man cus he's getting a bit of fanny tonight. Very original James".

The deflection tactic that got him out of trouble the day before had been a godsend but now he faced inquisitive eyes. James could feel the burning inside his cheeks whilst they stared at him, his heart beginning to pound away nervously as he swallowed hard. However, God seemed to favour the English this time and his predicament was soon poleaxed by that of the one person in the group not staring at him.

"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" Clare wailed

"What the fuck is it now Clare". Michelle wheeled back around.

Clare stood rifling through her bag, tears already falling down her plump cheeks as her hands moved quicker than an Olympic sprinter at full velocity.

"My homework… IT'S GONE!"

She looked up at her friends and the tears continued to fall. Finding a lack of interest from both Michelle and Orla, she turned to Erin and James for comfort in her distressed state.

"When did ye last see it?" Erin asked

"I don't know!... I DON'T KNOW!".

"Just take the fuckin' detention, Christ, it's not like we haven't had one before". Michelle implored with her.

"Ye don't understand Michelle! My da's fed up with me getting into bother. I'll get nothing for Christmas, I won't be allowed to leave me room!".

"You can have mine, I'll take the punishment instead". James put across to the shaking Clare.

"Wise up dickface, your shitty English writin' is well easy to spot. Prick". Michelle snorted

Wishing he hadn't spoke, James retreated away from trying to help, instead picking up the drink he wanted as they moved up in the queue. Clare continued to fret and panic, to the point where Erin stopped Michelle from slapping sense into her physically rather than metaphorically.

"I'm going back to English, maybe I… left it in there".

"Wha… Clare get back here!" Michelle fumed. "Clare!"

Michelle set off after the whimpering little blonde, berating her about not taking the punishment all the way out of the canteen.

"I reckon I left my pencil". Orla then announced and headed off after the two of them.

James and Erin stood befuddled at the front of the canteen queue and only the dinner lady's rude reminder for them to pay brought them out of their thoughts. Oddly they could still hear Clare a couple of minutes after they could no longer see her, any ability to hold her water gone at the discovery of missing homework. Paying for their drinks, the two of them set off at a leisurely pace towards their French class. Sensing an opportunity, Erin blurted out what was on her mind with no hint of a filter.

"Are you having sex with Harriet tonight?"

It stopped James dead in his tracks, raising a hand to his face and gently moving his thumb and middle finger to rub over his eyes as he sighed.

"Honestly, what is it with you lot? Can't you learn to not stick your noses in other people's lives". James passionately complained.

"I'm just looking out for ye…".

"No! This is what I don't get about this place!". It was James's turn to rant. "You all think you are looking out when the problem is you keep looking in! Now please can we stop talking about me and Harriet".

Not wishing to make another scene, Erin nodded her headed, breathing out in supposed defeat to the Englishman.

"Okay". She eventually said to his request.

"Thank you". James sounded beyond relieved at her agreement. "I hope Clare has found the French homework or we're in for a fun hour".

James changed the subject, hoping for it to be the end of any further discussion about the relationship between himself and Harriet. It was not something he wished to discuss with any of them for the moment, but he was foolish in thinking in his own head that Erin would move on that easily. The story was completely the opposite. James refusing to answer her original question only made Erin even more determined to find out what was going on between the wee English fella and the intruding blonde. Things were far from over on that front.

* * *

Ten minutes into the French lesson and there was still no sign of Clare, Michelle or Orla. The teacher naturally assumed that Erin and James would know of their absence and spent five minutes trying to pry information from them. Unwilling to drop Clare in it about the homework, but also not knowing exactly where they were either allowed them both to maintain consistently vague answers. Their teacher looked to be going in for round three when the door opened, and three dishevelled looking students walked in. James and Erin looked to each other and then closed their eyes, painfully aware that some form of Michelle plan would be about to be witnessed.

"What on earth!". Sister Kathleen proclaimed.

The strength of the Sister's reaction came from the cut lip that Clare rested a hand under and Orla's bloody nose. Michelle, who's face remained clear of any marks, wore an overly ruffled blazer and a look at her feet revealed a missing shoe.

"What happened here!" The sister then demanded.

"We were attacked Sister". Michelle replied on their behalf.

"Attacked? By whom?"

"We don-"

"Provo's".

Michelle's confident answer made many of them gasp but Sister Kathleen's eyes narrowed in suspicion, as did Jenny's. After being interrupted, Clare looked at Michelle aghast; to James and Erin, it was very clear that the two of them had not concocted matching stories.

"Provo's… and just how did you manage to be attacked at school by Provo's?"

"They came out the bushes out the front, jumped us so they did".

"Aye". Clare overly exaggerated her agreement.

"Really?" An eyebrow went up from the Sister.

"Does that cut lip and Orla's bloody nose not prove it! They were savages Sister, stole Clare's bag and they'd have had mine and Orla's if I hadn't managed to fight em off!"

"How heroic Miss Mallon. And at only the cost of a lost shoe?"

"Aye. One of em must have swi-"

The door creaked open again and Sister Michael walked in, her hands resting behind her back, immediately eyeing the sorry state of the three girls. Michelle stood defiantly, along with Orla who had started to braid Clare's hair as they stood at the front of the class. Normally Clare would have told her to shove off, but the small blonde was such a bundle of shivering nervousness that she hadn't clocked the braiding.

"Girls, you look awful. I imagine this incident has caused you a lot of distress". Sister Michael addressed them, not a hint of sarcasm in her voice…

"See". Michelle looked over to the scowling Sister Kathleen.

"Miss Devlin's panic attack about leaving her bag in the girl's toilets would match the last days of the Roman Empire I'm sure. Though quite how Miss Mallon's shoe got in there I do not know".

The game was up and everyone in the class knew it. James put his heads in hands, finding the whole situation unbelievable and searching his mind for a reason why Michelle had thought her heroic fight story would ever be able to wash. He didn't find one. Sister Kathleen wasn't best pleased either.

"Left it in the toilet? That's not quite the chivalrous tale that I heard from the girls Sister Michael".

"I see. Well I look forward to hearing it in my office. Miss Mallon…Miss Devlin…Miss McCool, if you please".

Throwing her arm out in a gesture for them to leave the room, they all filed out to the sounds of Michelle's huffing and Clare's sniffling. Orla didn't seem to know what was going on and followed aimlessly behind them, to Sister Michael's disapproval. James withdrew his head from his hands and looked to Erin, who had clearly been doing the same as she pushed strands of hair back behind her ear. Michelle had bewildered them more thoroughly than ever and the two of them found themselves relieved that they hadn't been lured into her ridiculous lie.

_What an eejit!_

* * *

James and Erin spent the rest of the day separated from their friends, who faced the terrifying prospect of a whole afternoon with Sister Michael. Only briefly talking to them at lunch, to find out their afternoon fate and that they would all be in detention after school, it had been an uneventful couple of hours. Taking the bus back, James offered to walk Erin home, on account of the others being unable to but she told him that Gerry would be picking her up due to the poor road conditions. Being a gentleman, he'd offered to stay until Gerry arrived, but Erin waved him on his way, reminding him of his later rendezvous with Harriet. He didn't miss the anger from her when she did.

Arriving home quickly to change, he made brief conversation with Uncle Martin, mostly the older man moaning about the weather and an incident at work. The Englishman went along with it to not cause offence but would have been hard pressed to provide details of what his Uncle had said if he were to be asked. He really could not care less. All James could think about was his meeting with Harriet at half past five and the joy that the evening would bring him. For the whole day he successfully kept his emotions in check about it, barring the one clash with Erin, but now he could smile and added himself a spring to his step. Remembering his wallet, it would be a disaster if he left it behind, he hurried out of the house in the direction of the city centre.

The paths were still a delicate mix of snow, ice and sludge and there were a few times that he nearly lost his footing, especially in the areas not covered by the streetlights. Turning the corner towards the entrance to the shopping centre, he checked his watch as it hovered just before the half past, indicating that his timekeeping was up to scratch. James rubbed his hands together as he got into the warm and looked up to see Harriet in the distance waiting for him. With a smile in her direction, he increased his pace and soon made it over to where the girl stood, wrapped up in a purple coat with a red beanie covering her usually flowing blonde hair. She was happy to see him too and pulled him into a hug the moment he reached her.

"Ready?" She chimed.

"Yep! Shall we?" He joyfully replied.

As the two English youngsters walked into the jewellers behind them, they were blissfully unaware of the piercing, crimson covered eyes of Erin Quinn that watched them. Angry eyes that could no longer blink away tears. They weren't having sex but in many ways for Erin, this was even worse. _They must care for each other deeply…_

Unable to stand it any longer, she fled.

* * *

The continually dropping temperature provided a welcome distraction for her thoughts as she ran home, twice sliding over into the snow. Injuries were avoided as she fell into some of the deeper areas of it but even if she had tumbled off the side of a cliff, Erin doubted she could be anymore hurt than she already was.

She was in far more pain than she had ever been.

Dinner was a disgusting experience that night, but it too provided a temporary barrier to her thoughts, mostly to condemn Michelle for her stupidity when Mary demanded to hear the story of what happened at break. Orla's nose hadn't been broken at least, something which Sarah had fretted to almost Clare levels about when Sister Michael phoned home. Sarah fussed around her daughter all evening, doting on her like the ancient servants would to their overlords. Keeping up appearances around them seemed easier than it should have been, and Erin went up to bed certain that neither her parents nor Granda Joe were any the wiser. It was only when her door shut for the night that she could breathe out and let her guard down. As it went down, the thoughts were released from her mental floodgate and they drowned her mind.

The package on the floor added a visual reminder of her plight. When she'd told her mother that morning to expect a package arriving for her during the day, Erin found the confidence to know she would be able to deal with it that evening. She just needed to get through the day unscathed. But what had been seen at the shopping centre could not be unseen and now the package became a pilgrim in an unholy land. Erin sniffed all the way through changing for bed and did not even try to do any writing like she often would before drifting off. Even her diary came to be neglected as she settled for getting under the covers and turning the light off. Staring at the ceiling, Erin knew she would not sleep while her mind ground on in the manner of a tank across a muddy battlefield.

_Why do all the lads my age betray me…_

_Why did he turn to her so quickly…_

_She is quite pretty but far from a model…_

_Ach! Who am I kidding, Harriet is beautiful…_

_I didn't lie to Clare…but I lied to myself to lie to Clare…_

_She was right… Michelle too_

_But why am I?_

_Why should I be?_

_Jealousy?_

_There can only be jealousy if there is…_

The penny. The penny that hung for so long… it finally dropped. Her hands went over her mouth to supress the gasp… or the scream… whichever would have been ripped from her lungs. The writing was very much on the wall.

_Erin Quinn was madly in love with James Maguire._

But Harriet had him now. The ship had sailed, and she found herself stuck in the hull while the two of them danced around the top deck.

For the first time in many years, Erin cried herself to sleep that night.


	8. Before the Storm

Chapter 8: Before the Storm 22nd December 1995

The wind and rain battered the windows that morning. The picturesque snow of the day before had been replaced by rapturous winds and swirling rainfall. Granda Joe started complaining the moment he woke up and was still complaining when Erin joined the rest of her family at the table for breakfast.

"Morning Erin love". Her mother spoke to her first.

"Morning Mammy". She replied as normally as she could, not wishing to give any impression that anything changed overnight. _It hadn't… it couldn't._

"It's feckin' torrential out there. You should be drivin' the wains to school Gerry!"

Gerry felt a sense of déjà vu coming on.

"For the thousandth time Joe, I have to get to work, I don't have time to drive Erin and Orla to school".

"Why don't ye do us all a favour and drive off a cliff". Joe launched back

"My hair will end up in ruins if I go out there Mary, I think I'll have to call in sick".

"Aye Sarah, we can't be having that can we?"

"Ach Mammy, Michelle has to sing in front of the whole school today". Orla announced to Sarah.

"Michelle? Sing in front of the whole school?" A shocked Mary interjected.

"Aye Aunt Mary, Sister Michael is making her do it. I reckon she'll be cracker, don't you Erin?".

Erin hadn't been listening, lost to her own thoughts as she nibbled at her toast and barely registered her cousin's voice at her side.

"Huh what Orla?"

Before Orla could ask again, the front door jolted open and Michelle led the others through, Mary making a comment about manners under her breath. Michelle and Clare strolled into the kitchen, somewhat soaked already and both shivering from the arctic winds. James, who had lagged behind to shut the front door, arrived on the scene a couple of minutes later with a similar look of misery from the disgusting conditions.

"Morning Mary". Michelle put her hand up to her

"Morning Michelle. I hear your full vocal range will be on show this mornin'".

"Ach don't start Mary, I'm raging".

"Morning James son". Joe gave the Englishman a smile, which widened when he saw what was in the lad's hands.

"I got you the paper Joe, I thought you probably wouldn't have been out yet because of the weather". He said confidently, thrusting the newspaper in front of Joe.

Joe turned to Gerry and started to wag a finger at him.

"In all the years you've been botherin' my Mary, not once have ye got me the paper. Not once. Are you even a man Gerry?"

"Da!".

An all too familiar reprimand from Mary stopped Joe and Gerry from tussling any further, Joe settling down with his paper and keeping quiet.

"What's the craic then?" Michelle looked to Erin and Orla.

"Nothing much". Erin replied

"Nothing much?!" Orla's pitch rose, incredulous at Erin. "We have to invite them all to the party Erin!".

The party. Another memory of the previous night that Erin wished to forget. The last thing she wanted was a get together of all their friends and family, yet Mary decided that it must be the case.

"Party?" Clare asked

"That's right Clare". Mary explained. "We're having a little party here tonight and yer all invited, parents too".

"Ahh I'm buzzing already!" Michelle replied. "Although Ma and Da are both working tonight so they'll have to pass".

"Mine are out with friends but I'd be delighted to come over Mrs Quinn". Clare cheerfully accepted the invitation.

Mary smiled at her polite response, shifting her gaze onto James who stood awkwardly at the side, no seats being left at the table.

"What about you love?"

"Absolutely Mary, I'd love to".

"Grand". She beamed back. "You can bring Harriet along too, let her get to know the family a bit, ye know".

Erin only narrowly avoided choking on her toast when she heard her mother's words. She had carefully avoided eye contact with James ever since he appeared in the room and radiated hope that nothing about the English girl would be said so she could survive breakfast without a breakdown. However, her own mother was about to contribute to Erin's heart breaking open and she silently berated her Mammy for daring to invite Harriet. _Wait… James told her Ma that he had committed to a relationship with Harriet before telling her?..._

"I'm sure she will appreciate it. Thanks Mary".

Wanting to kill her mother, and not for the first time, Erin put on her best performance at trying to stay calm. Everything would be fine. She would find a way. It was fine. Everything was fine.

It really wasn't fine.

* * *

_Silent Night_

_Away in a Manger_

_Hark the Herald Angels Sing_

An extra long assembly, to mark Christmas and the final school day of 1995, also signified multiple performances from the school choir. Jenny Joyce was in her element here, belting out the songs with even more joy and gusto than she would normally. Michelle… less so.

The vulnerable side to Michelle didn't make many appearances but all of them winced at the sight of it that morning. For all the talents she liked to boast, she couldn't boast about her ability as a choir singer and, being helplessly out of tune with the rest of the choir, the rest of the school found that out. It wasn't from a lack of effort, despite all her negativity towards having to do it, Michelle believed she was proving a point to Sister Michael by doing it. Showing her that she can behave, that she can put her mind to anything and achieve success. But in front of the whole school it backfired spectacularly, and the end of the assembly could not come quick enough. With the special assembly overrunning, they were given an extended breaktime, an unexpected gesture where Sister Michael was concerned. With school finishing at lunchtime too, it gave them just the one lesson to get through and fortunately for Erin, it was English. As they were dismissed from assembly, they waited for Michelle to come down from the stage and went over to comfort her when she came out of the crowd.

"Are you alright Michelle?" Erin asked, concerned.

"Ye… no. Aye ye, I'm alright". An unusually nervous Michelle replied. "Just glad it's over".

"I thought you were cracker Michelle". Orla added sweetly, bringing the smile back to her friend.

"Thanks Orla". Michelle instinctively pulled her into a hug, Orla nearly choking on her dip dab in surprise.

"Me too". James said sincerely.

Pulling away from Orla, Michelle shifted over to him and for the briefest of seconds, a genuine thanks glinted within her eyes. James realised too late that the trap was set and stood no chance of getting out of the way when she drove her knee into his crotch.

"Thanks Dicko".

Michelle's smirk would be as fond as it got for him and he conceded, murmuring something in response that none of them heard. Unbeknownst to him, Orla decided to have a following the leader moment, and kneed him in the exact same area, leaving James in excruciating pain. They all laughed at him but gave him a moment to recover before they set off to find a table. Quickly returning to her normal, charming demeanour, Michelle suddenly remembered something she needed to tell them.

"Ach by the way, that tramp Molly's been back at it again".

Clare looked up at her like she was on another planet.

"She's in hospital in case you've forgotten Michelle. Ye know, she got shot!"

"I mean at the hospital Clare ya dose. Me Ma was telling me after wank features had gone to bed last night. Jesus the girl has no shame".

"Come off it Michelle". Erin snorted. "I don't believe anything else has happened".

"You sayin' me Ma's lying?"

"No".

"Good. Anyway, Ma walked in to change the dressing on Molly's wound. And what does she find when she gets there?"

All four of them shrugged in return.

"Doctor Byrne, trousers to his ankles and right deep in Molly's hole!"

Audible disgust came from Erin, Clare and James, Orla laughing at what Michelle had said, clearly oblivious. The rest of them wished they were.

"Christ! That's minging!" Clare shrieked.

"I… oh god that is just disgusting!" James added.

"Prude". Michelle fired back at him.

"Aye that I definitely don't believe Michelle. And definitely never will".

"Fucking hell, you're getting as bad as English over there". Michelle tilted her head back to James behind her, her eyes then moving to focus on someone else. "Speaking of English, there's ya bit of fanny James".

Erin had to find a spot to look at fast and without looking to where Michelle's eyes were fixed because it would be game over if she did.

"Hah really funny. I best ask her about the party, I'll be back in a minute".

The stroke of luck that Erin needed came. She wouldn't have to put up with Harriet being in front of them, around them and… talking to them. Or her. But when she did dare to look across, her heart couldn't even handle him approaching Harriet. If that wasn't possible, then putting up with Harriet for hours at the party, if she attended, would be absolutely unthinkable. Feeling the tears well up inside, Erin quickly excused herself to the bathroom, ignoring the calls of her friends from the trail of dust she left behind her.

* * *

"The fuck's wrong with her".

Michelle said aloud what Clare and Orla were thinking. Apart from the bit about wham bars and Oliver Cromwell. Watching Erin scurry off, with a tame mumble for an excuse, they couldn't help but stare. Finding the nearest table, the three of them sat down, Orla jumping into her seat and falling off the other side.

"I'm alright". She said as she picked herself back up.

"Be careful Orla!" Clare commented, offering a hand to a friend which was accepted.

Sliding drinks over to them both, Michelle took a swig of hers, non-alcoholic for once, and cast her eye over the hall. James was deep in conversation with Harriet and while the others started their own drinks, she allowed herself a smile at him. For all the hell she put him through on a regular basis since he came to Derry, she was happy that her cousin had found a girl. Even if she was English too. She was a lot less happy about Erin's mood.

"Erin's been in a right foul one all week". She put to the other two.

"She didn't listen to me at breakfast". Orla noted, Michelle nodding.

"You guys have seen it too? A surprised Clare asked.

"How could ye not see it? She's been off her fuckin' rocker". Michelle stated incredulously. "She was right rude to Harriet the other day an' all".

"She cried herself to sleep last night ye know".

Michelle and Clare looked at Orla with widened eyes. _Erin crying herself to sleep…_

"Jesus. What's got her fuckin' goat".

Clare fidgeted nervously. She hadn't said a word of what took place after school that Monday, an agreement with Erin that she did not intend to break. But keeping it from the others would inhibit their ability to help her. She needed to talk about it.

"I think it might have something to do with Harriet!". Clare spoke so quickly, she almost shouted it.

"What?" Michelle retorted, recoiling at her words.

"She has a… she… she doesn't… like her that much".

"Aye, I can confirm that".

Orla was the recipient of widened eyes again and for once picked up on their insinuations and carried on with her story.

"She hates Harriet, so she does. I read it in her diary on Sunday morning".

The bombshell had been dropped. For Clare, a thought lodged in her mind. Orla only confirmed what she saw that night and what she began to believe ever since. Erin had lied to her that night, she knew that the very moment her friend grovelled to her in pity, but she'd chosen to be supportive rather than take her to task. It was as she feared. Michelle, not privy to any of that information, struggled to put the pieces together in her head.

"Sunday morning? But we only met Harriet for what… one minute on Saturday? I know she's English but Christ even I couldn't hate her after that".

"I…erm…" Clare nervously started under Michelle's gaze. "I think she might be jealous".

"Because he's getting off and she isn't? Aye, I thought that too but… Christ, no one of us know if he's even with Harriet".

"Maybe we should ask him?" Orla suggested

"I'm gunna have to I reckon. Sort this fuckin' shit out. It's Christmas for fuck's sake, we should be havin' fun not mopin' about because of an English girl".

It may have been Christmas in Derry, but they still had to get through one last lesson at school and until the bell went at lunchtime, they were under school rules. A reminder of that soon came for Michelle.

"Miss Mallon".

Sister Michael's unmistakable address made Michelle swear under her breath. She'd done nothing wrong all morning, what could it be about.

"You'll come with me to my office".


	9. Tis the Season

Chapter 9: Tis the Season

Mary was properly in the festive swings of things. The kids would be home early from school and the holidays would truly commence, a joyous time in their house every year. They would often have a big family get together, sometimes on the big day itself, but a party with friends was a new edition to the Christmas itinerary. Preparing for such an event didn't come stress free either.

"Have we got enough crisps Sarah?" Mary asked, rushing past her sister, who was seated at the dining table. She did as she said, called in sick.

"I'm not sure Mary. I'm just so worried about my nails so I am".

Some days Mary wished she could slap the sense into Sarah. Her nails often came before any meaningful contribution to the house. Contribution which was needed in abundance to get everything ready for the party.

"What about plates? Christ! I forgot to tell Da to get paper plates!"

"It's not even midday yet Mary, ye can relax you know".

"Relax?! I've got guests to feed Sarah and they have NO plates to eat off!".

Sarah stopped listening and continued filing her nails, leaving Mary to panic on her own. Baby Anna had been thankfully quiet all morning, which did make things slightly less stressful than they could have been. Slightly. Joe was due back at any minute with all the additional food she requested from the supermarket. It was the fifteenth draft of the shopping list that Joe took with him, the bin in the kitchen showing the evidence of the fourteen fallen lists. She knew from James that Harriet did not have any allergies so that was another added stress off the list. There would be no need to pick the nuts out of anything like they did when a friend of Sarah's came over for an evening the Christmas before. It nearly killed Mary.

A couple of minutes, and a few pacing lengths of the living room later, Joe opened the front door with shopping bags in each hand. Rushing off to him, Mary took the bags out of his hand and he headed back to the car for the rest of them. Nearly running into the kitchen, Mary put the bags out onto the table, instructing the disinterested Sarah to start unpacking. Running out to meet Joe again, she met him at the back of the car, where he was putting items back into bags where they had fallen out during the trip back.

"Shoddy packin' ye did in the shop there da". Mary observed.

"Shoddy job pickin' a husband you did Mary". Joe retorted

Mary huffed at any word said in vain about Gerry but was pulled from any further comments when she noticed something sticking out the bag at the back. Paper plates.

"Paper Plates! You got paper plates!". She cried in joy.

Joe chuckled under his breath, grinning back at his daughter. The moniker of a wise man suited Joe.

"I got some more crisps too. Better to be safe than sorry".

"Thank you Lord". Mary looked to the heavens and sighed with relief.

If the Lord had been merciful with Mary when it came to the shopping, she later found that the Lord must have found a sin she had committed. Around half an hour after the shopping was in and put away, there was a ring on the doorbell. An unexpected one at that time of day; she wasn't aware of anymore parcels to come for Erin or expecting any visitors. Opening the door, it was the latter that she received. Uncle Colm.

"Morning to ye Colm".

"Aye morning there Mary. That rain this morning, I haven't seen anything like it since the church trip to Carrickfergus in 87. Ye know, that day, I remember…".

"Can I stop you there Colm?"

"Aye".

"Ye best come in, I think it's about to rain again".

Colm looked up to the clouds and spotted the ever-darkening ones heading their way.

"Oh aye, thanks Mary".

Inviting Colm into the house on any day would be painful but this day of all it reeked of distracting disaster. But the surprises didn't end there, for as Colm made his way through to the living room to find Joe, Mary became aware that not all aspects of the party plan were under her control.

"Ah Colm, ye here".

"Aye". Colm drolly responded. "I said to myself when ya phoned earlier, aye Colm says I, the last time I helped ye with a party must have been back in 85, when we…"

"Cup of tea Colm?" Sarah interrupted, to everyone else's joy. Colm nodded his head to her to get the drink.

"Thanks for coming to help Colm". Mary engaged before he had a chance to continue his story. "I didn't know we was expecting ye".

She shot a look at Joe who growled quietly at her disdain.

"It's all hands to the pump Mary. And the useless bastard will be just that when he's in from whatever he does with his day".

"Gerry's at work da".

"So you all say".

Ignoring Joe's further barb at the absent Gerry, Mary ushered Colm through to the kitchen and took his coat to hang up. Sarah finished making the tea and put the mug down on the mat by Colm, Joe joining them, sitting next to his brother.

"James said he'd spoken to ye Mary". Joe initiated a discussion to avoid Colm doing so. Priorities.

"Aye to me and Gerry da. I am happy for him…"

"Me too love".

"The wee gay fella?" Sarah interjected. "Found a lad has he?"

"He's not gay Sarah". Mary threw her sister a frustrated look.

"He's not? I wonder why he hasn't mentioned that before".

Mary and Joe managed to stifle the need to shout at Sarah, to remind her of the hundreds of times that James had told her so himself. To any outsider looking in, the face Sarah pulled would make it seem like she had seen a ghost.

"English fella ye say? The one your Erin was talking to at the wedding?" Colm enquired.

"Aye Colm". Mary confirmed. "I was surprised when he said ye were happy with it da".

"He's a good lad is James, twice the man Gerry is at half the age, so he is". Joe again insulted Gerry, earning himself another scowl from Mary.

"It's very… extravagant though, all this with Harriet".

"Aye". Joe replied earnestly. "But he deserves this. The effort he's putting into it is remarkable, so it is".

"What's the craic then?" Sarah asked. "You can't leave me out the gossip Mary".

Sighing, Mary looked to Joe and he nodded what she took as permission, not that she needed his permission to talk about James. But on this instance, in a very odd way, she felt the need to seek it, especially with Colm present too.

"Alright then Sarah, James…".

* * *

Walking towards Sister Michael's office, Michelle still couldn't understand what more she could have done to draw her ire. She put everything into the choir performance, something a week prior she would have never considered doing, and although she knew it was bad, Michelle couldn't be faulted for effort.

"Sit down Miss Mallon". Sister Michael instructed as they got into the room.

Complying with the request, Michelle hesitantly perched herself on the chair in front of Sister Michael's desk. She said nothing, favouring eyeballing the headmistress, trying to find the motive for her summoning.

"Quiet. Very unlike you Michelle".

_Michelle? Since when did Sister Michael address me like that…_

"Erm… well. Yeah". Michelle came out of her thoughts, stuttering into a reply.

"I suspect you are wondering why you are here?".

Sister Michael proceeded to slouch back in her chair and put her feet on the desk, a bizarre act of comfortability that only made Michelle more uncertain of what she was doing there.

"Ye. I've done nothing wrong". She argued.

"Correct. But we still have the small matter of the alcohol that I confiscated from you on Wednesday".

Ah. Michelle had almost forgotten the Vodka that Sister Michael took from her, the expensive bottle as well, and now it made sense. Using all of her unsympathetic and ruthless energy, the headmistress waited right until the last day, just to ruin it for her. Clare commenting on how lucky she had been to avoid punishment came far too soon.

"Right". A nervous Michelle fidgeted and did not look the Sister in the eye as she responded.

"We have an hour or so until every goes home for Christmas". Sister Michael removed her feet from the desk and opened her top drawer, producing the offending item. "I'm loathed to pass it around the staff room… I can't have a repeat of what happened last year".

Michelle knew exactly what happened, rumours had spread like wildfire in the new year. The very reason why three teachers did not return.

"If we make a start on it then I'll at least be able to bare waving everyone off with a smile".

For a moment, the whole room seemed to have been hit by a bolt of lightning. The air tasted of an electric stun, the sort of taste that stopped words forming in mouths and caused eyes to flicker alarmingly. Michelle couldn't quite believe it.

"We?"

"Aye".

Sister Michael's verbal confirmation was followed by a physical one, as from the same drawer, two glasses were produced and within another minute, one glass was placed down on Michelle's side of her desk. If the Bishop walked in, Michelle was certain he would have a heart attack on the spot at the scene he would witness. Words still failed her.

"Don't act so surprised Miss Mallon. I've put you through hell this week and as much as I've enjoyed unravelling your boisterous personality, I suppose it's only fair that I reward you in turn for your persistence".

Tentatively picking up the glass, her hand shaking so uncontrollably she was afraid she'd drop it, Michelle managed to grin back at the Sister. Despite her act of kindness, the headmistress was not moved at all by the gesture.

"Merry Christmas Michelle". She moved her drink in to touch Michelle's.

"Merry Christmas Sister".

Shooting the breeze with your headmistress on the last day before Christmas, whilst enjoying premium quality Vodka and not giving a care about anything else… Michelle wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

In a week where they'd all been regaled the soap opera worthy drama of the McNair family, Michelle's latest story about spending the last hour of school drinking with Sister Michael made the McNair business look like Goldilocks. The reaction from her friends to the story was very mixed. Erin and James rejected it out of hand, believing it to be an exaggeration too far, whilst Orla took it as gospel and became highly amused by it. Naturally, Clare had raised the logical points of the trouble Sister Michael would be in if anyone found out and the immoral decisions both had made to drink while at the school. Michelle insisted that it happened, but it was left as a fictious incident when they parted ways by the bus stop and little would they know it really had happened as Michelle said.

Erin and Orla were being picked up by Granda Joe, a decision explained by Mary before they left for school as being so that they wouldn't go into the town and get distracted. She would need them to help prepare everything. Not a word was spoken between them about Erin's earlier dramatics, nor had anything been said during the English lesson Michelle missed, Erin's focus being so great that she barely said a word to anyone for the hour. Her silence became reinforced upon learning from James that Harriet accepted the invitation to the party, not that the others realised. _Obviously they don't know about… that._ Erin thought to herself, watching James, Michelle and Clare get on the bus back.

Later that afternoon, after a brief stop at Clare's, the three of them, James, Michelle and Clare, were all present at the Mallon household. Being the guest, Clare had politely been invited to change first in James's room while he remained downstairs. A proper gentleman. Michelle went into overdrive the moment they returned home, aided by her Vodka intake from Sister Michael, and had commandeered the bathroom to ensure she looked the part for the party. It hadn't taken Clare too long to change and she'd returned down and swapped with James, who continued his gentlemanly behaviour by making her a drink and getting her a sandwich before he made his way up. Though she knew him to be a caring soul, Clare couldn't help but raise a brow in suspicion at just how hard he was trying to be helpful.

Clare was sat on the Mallon's sofa, watching the TV, when the doorbell rang at around four o'clock.

"Can ye get that Clare?" Michelle shouted down.

"Aye!" She called back up, raising herself off the sofa to see who it was.

Opening the door, Clare was greeted by the sight of Harriet, who looked absolutely stunning. Her luscious blonde hair was wrapped up into a bun and she had added a beautiful pair of diamond earrings to her glamourous outlook. The blue and gold dress that the English girl wore was of immeasurable quality, more the dress for a medieval ball than a party at a friend's house though. She was way out of Clare's league. Not that she wasn't thinking about it mind.

"Harriet…". She could barely get the words out. "You look… you… you look fabulous".

"Thank you Clare. I hope I haven't over dressed for the occasion".

Harriet ran her eyes down the Christmas themed jumper and jeans combination that Clare sported and neither knew which had got it wrong when it came to the attire.

"No… No!". Clare laughed back the nerves. "Come in".

Harriet made her way into the Mallon household and looked around the cramped but cosy interior of the house. Clare presumed she may be shocked and perhaps a little condescending after living at Jenny's for a week, but Harriet seemed more intrigued by the homely warmth of the house. Leading her through to the living room, they both sat down on the sofa, Clare turning off the TV and opting to talk to her instead.

"How are you finding Derry?"

"It is a world away from what I am used to". Harriet admitted in a wistful tone. "But I have enjoyed my time here and the people I have met. I believe I have truly understood the concept of friendship in these last few days Clare, without even knowing of my misunderstanding of the matter".

After years of listening to Erin's poetry, Clare became confused but mesmerised by the sincere beauty of Harriet's words. It was the meaning where Clare became lost. But any chance to ask about it was lost when Michelle came barrelling down the stairs, James following on behind her.

"Jesus Harriet, it's not the feckin' Ritz we're heading to ye know!" Michelle barked out to her.

"Y-Yes I… thought I might have gone a bit far". She laughed nervously in return.

"I think you look beautiful Harriet". James smiled from behind his cousin.

Harriet did not blush at his comment, instead giggling away at James's gentlemanly action. Michelle turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oi Dicko. I'll boke if ye act like this with her around all the time".

"Michelle!" Clare hissed in warning.

"What?" Michelle glared back, ignoring James and Harriet's attempts to look anywhere but at her.

"You know what!"

"Ach right… Aye. Do it all polite ye? Fine. You two are… ye know?"

The added wink made it no easier. A second awkward conversation for James was about to begin and this one was the one that he dreaded fervently.

* * *

No more kids for a couple of weeks.

No more whining at detentions.

No more groaning in assembly.

Sister Michael loved Christmas. Absolutely loved it. Walking out towards the main door to the school, key in hand, she took a long look around at walls she could put out of her mind for the holiday period. The Vodka perhaps had a say in her mood too, not that she could admit that to anyone.

As she reached the main door, Sister Michael found she was not the only member of staff left on the site. Mr Flanagan was at the boot of his car, fiddling with his briefcase that would eventually find its place inside. He looked up to see the Sister locking the main door and after shutting the boot, made his way over to her as she walked to her own vehicle.

"Still here Robert". She addressed him informally.

"Aye. I decided to start marking the trenches assignment in the couple of hours after the kids went. There are some cracking pieces of work Sister".

"Good to hear. I fear we must pray to the Lord for those sitting the Cromwell examination in January. Certain students in particular".

Mr Flanagan's roguish grin implied to the Sister that he knew exactly who she meant.

"I do hope Miss Quinn takes the advice that I have given her".

"If Erin Quinn took advice, I fear she would be more powerful than any of us". Sister Michael wondered aloud, Mr Flanagan chortling at the thought. "Though I hear through Miss Mallon that there is a 'party' of sorts this evening. Perhaps she will heed it there".

"This English girl Harriet has certainly caused some trouble for our young Erin".

"Erin causes enough trouble for everyone else Robert. Makes a change for her to be on the receiving end".

Mr Flanagan sighed. Only a month into the role and he knew of just how much bother Erin and her friends could land themselves in.

"We will be dealing with the fallout of this in January ye know Sister".

"We will indeed. We will indeed". Sister Michael looked to the heavens, an act that Mr Flanagan took as looking for strength. "But that is in January and I could not care less. Have a wonderful Christmas Robert".

"You too sister".

The last two cars left Our Lady Immaculate for the final time in 1995 and as the rain began to swirl up off the Foyle, a chapter in the story of Erin Quinn was about to write itself. One way or the other.


	10. Meltdown

Chapter 10: Meltdown

_22_ _nd_ _December_

_I couldn't write last night._

_For years finding the right words has come naturally to me._

_Last night that ability disintegrated._

_I am barely holding it together. After my… realisation yesterday, I cannot go a single minute without thinking about him. About her. She is coming to this party…_

_It has dawned on me that maybe this is what I deserve for how I have acted. I have not been honest with James or even myself when it comes to how I feel. I've watched from afar, disrupted any hint of love for him when it has threatened me but this time, I could not prevent it. My jealousy of Harriet has only driven them closer together…_

_My life has reached a crossroads. I am dreading the next few hours because this party will change everything for me. So much so that this may be the last ever entry in this diary. If it is confirmed that my hope is lost, then I will bury this diary, in an attempt to bury everything that I feel for him. Little memories of… us… remain in here and I know I cannot survive the pain that they will bring me. But if that is the case and if this diary is ever found, please know one thing._

_My name is Erin Quinn and I love James Maguire with all my heart._

Closing her diary, with a lone tear trailing down her cheek, Erin took a deep breath. Picking herself up off of the bed, she made her way over to a photo that was taken after James had returned to Derry. A photo which did not look out of place amongst the collection of ones with her friends but this one was different. Erin and James stood side by side grinning wildly. Erin stroked her thumb over it.

"Please God… Please".

* * *

The disgusting weather seemed to have temporarily cleared and it was a relief for Michelle, James, Clare and Harriet as they walked over to the Quinn house. Clare and Michelle walked ahead of their English companions, who laughed and joked to themselves merrily behind.

"Christ, I still think I'm gunna boke". Michelle whispered to Clare.

"Oh come on Michelle".

"Catch yourself on Clare. You do realise what this means?"

Clare only just avoided rolling her eyes at Michelle's disdain.

"I'm happy about it. I think it's… nice".

"Nice!? Nice?". Michelle seethed. "I can't believe you sometimes Clare".

The two of them continued to argue under hushed voices, something which both James and Harriet noticed from a few paces back. James was the only one of them close to Harriet's level of formality when it came to their outfits, sporting a plain white shirt along with black trousers. His coat was around Harriet's shoulders, keeping her warm as the temperature began to drop in the early throngs of the evening.

"I have never found such freedom as I have here. Back home I would never have been allowed to stroll through a place like this at this time of the evening". Harriet recited to James.

"Derry is a beautiful place. I can't say I thought it was at first, but it's grown on me and I am so glad that I did not leave".

"Me too. I doubt we would have met otherwise".

They shared lopsided grins at Harriet's sincere remark before breaking out into a light laughter, earning a stern look from Michelle in front.

"I don't think she'll ever be happy about it". James sighed.

"Change is a malicious beast James. Like fear, you have to face it, it cannot be ran from forever and it should not be either".

"Michelle doesn't see it that way".

"She will have to in time James. Love should not be frowned upon".

"If only it were that easy".

James's dejection concerning Michelle was well founded. The conversation between the four them before setting off went from awkward to heated in a matter of seconds. Not that he expected it to be any different with Michelle. Only a fool would think it possible to be.

A few doors short of the Quinn house, Michelle and Clare slowed to a halt, James and Harriet matching their rhythm and stopping next to them. Anticipating a final display of bullish bravado from his cousin, James closed his eyes for a brief second and turned his head up to the sky. Feeling Harriet's nudge, he turned his head back down to the awaiting Michelle.

"I'm sorry. Alright". She blurted out, slightly uncomfortably.

His shocked look only encouraged her to continue.

"It's your life James and ye should be happy. I'll just have to deal with it. I just don't want…".

"I don't want that either Michelle". He interrupted. "But I won't stop what I want just because you don't like it".

"She knows James". Clare interjected on her behalf.

"Aye, Clare… made me understand and accept it. But I have rules Dicko!"

James and Harriet both laughed at her sudden pitch change, Clare too enjoying a chuckle at Michelle's expense. Michelle was being serious.

"I don't wanna be seeing all…that…ye hear?". Her hand gestures told him enough to know exactly what she meant.

"I think I can manage that". He could barely keep a straight face in return. "Providing she…"

"What? I'm serious! I'm not being unreasonable, am I? Harriet?"

Harriet couldn't do as good a job as James at hiding her amusement and burst out into laughter, even setting a now relaxed Michelle off too. The tension evaporated.

"I think you'll just have to manage, won't you James?"

Another round of guffawing and chortling ensued, Michelle pulling James into a hug as a true means of apology, one that he accepted wholeheartedly. Starting off walking again, they were soon at the Quinn's, giving James just enough time to warn Harriet about some of the characters that lay in wait inside. Joe especially.

* * *

_Ding-Dong_

The sound of the doorbell made Mary jump to attention from her place in the kitchen. The party had not quite started yet, but the family were all milling around in the living room awaiting the arrival of Erin and Orla's friends. And a new face. She made her way to the front door, spotting the easily distinguishable figure of Michelle through the glass before she opened it.

"Evening wains".

"Aye evening Mary". Michelle responded as she waltzed on in like she owned the place.

"Hello Mrs Quinn". Clare beamed.

"Evening to ye Clare".

As the diminutive blonde followed Michelle through, Mary got her first look at the English girl she had heard so much about. The first thing that struck Mary was that none of them were bending the truth when it came to Harriet's beauty. She was ravishingly beautiful, the sort of girl that would make mouths hang open on the streets. Everything about her screamed true perfection. She certainly didn't belong in Derry with looks like that.

"Mary, this is Harriet". James introduced the two. "Harriet, this is Mary, Erin's mum".

The two women locked eyes. Mary kept her eyes narrowed for a brief second, completing one last suspicious scan of the young English girl but finding nothing but warmth for her, quickly dropped to a smile. Harriet grinned in appreciation, placing a bag into Mary's hands.

"It is a small present as a thank you for inviting me this evening. And a Christmas Card from myself and the Joyce's too".

_A Christmas Card from the Joyce family… Christ we are going up in the world…_

Mary lost her concentration for a brief second as she took in that news before ushering the two young Brits inside. The Christmas music got turned up as they made their way into the living room, a sure-fire sign that Michelle had arrived. Joe surveyed the scene of James walking in with Harriet and discreetly made his way around to them. He was not the only one eyeing their arrival. Erin stood with her Uncle Colm, who was into his fifth minute of explaining a story about what happened at the Chemists on Wednesday, when the slender figure of Harriet caught her eye across the room. Any hope of a last-minute cancellation was destroyed. Harriet soon made her way to the kitchen where Gerry and Orla were residing, leaving James by the door out of the living room.

"Good girl she is James". Joe came to rest his hand on the Englishman's shoulder.

James turned his head to see nothing but genuine affection from Joe.

"I know. I am lucky that she walked into my life".

"That ye are son. Everyone knows. Ye treat her well now, ye hear?".

"I will".

* * *

Harriet and Orla stood in the kitchen, Orla regaling some childhood tales to the English girl. Harriet found her highly entertaining, enjoying her free-spirited soul in much the same way that James admitted that he did. There was just something about Orla that she found liberating and exciting, the sort of friend that you could always rely on for a laugh and a good time. Harriet didn't really have those friends back home. She came to the conclusion just a couple of days after meeting Orla that they just did not exist back in England. Back in her circle.

"Ach Harriet, I need to give ye the Cromwell book back". Orla suddenly remembered.

"Oh it's ok Orla, you can keep it… as an early Christmas present".

"Really?"

Harriet nodded and received the full weight of Orla, who threw herself onto the English girl and wrapped herself around her. Harriet rested her hands gently on Orla's back and for a second, they stayed in their embrace.

"I have something to show ye". Orla said as she removed herself from Harriet's arms.

Giving her new friend a smile, Harriet proceeded to follow Orla to the other side of the kitchen, where a drawer was opened. Orla surprised her with the friendly hug just moments before, yet nothing in the world could have prepared her for the knives that found their way into Orla's hands the next. A bubble of uneasiness inflated in her stomach.

"These are my knives Harriet". Orla whispered

"Kni-Knives? You… collect knives?" Harriet, still stunned, attempted to clarify.

"Aye, I love a good knife, so I do".

When her mother warned her at the airport that Ireland was a savage place compared to the home that she grew up in, Harriet scarcely believed her. Mothers had a habit of being right, a saying she not only found to ring true during the week but was now viewing in practice.

"Ach don't be scared. I like to go camping ye know and it is always handy to have a knife with wolves about. Those boys… they don't care who ye are, they'll go for anyone so they will".

Harriet's nerves eased when Orla explained the situation more clearly. Just an innocent knife collection for camping, nothing more sinister. It was actually quite cute, Harriet thought to herself.

"I have never been camping before. My parents would not allow it".

"That's shockin!" Orla was taken aback. "Hang on, we should go campin tomorrow!"

A chuckle slipped from Harriet's mouth as she watched the sincerity in Orla's eyes.

"I wish that I could Orla, but my flight back is tomorrow".

The next minute or so confused Harriet. She could only think that Orla must have thought she'd spoken a foreign language, for her friend rubbed her temples and looked as if the carpet had been pulled from under her. Like a rabbit in the headlights, Orla stood blinded.

"I… don't… but what about James?"

Shuffling awkwardly and looking down at her feet, Harriet found herself in the position James had multiple times that week. An awkward conversation was in the offing.

"I think I need to explain something to you Orla".

* * *

_Why does everyone keep looking at me?_

_Then look away again?_

_Why do I feel like a stranger in my own house!?_

Erin sat on the sofa and watched the scene around her. Michelle seemed to have been dancing or singing since the moment she arrived, and Clare too was in a jovial mood, dancing along with her and Aunt Sarah. Every so often she looked around to see if she could get a moment with James, lead him away while everyone's backs were turned and confess her true feelings. The moment never seemed to come. James was only a few feet away from her but ensnared by Uncle Colm. Yet the Englishman led the conversation.

"… and that is how I managed to get kicked out of the football team back home".

Colm, expressionless as ever, cleared his throat and looked to the Englishman.

"You English fellas, ye don't half go on, don't ye". Colm complained at James's story

The bewildered look on James's face only made him look more cuter and Erin's heart beat just a little faster; she did not even realise she was staring at him.

"Erin".

"Erin!".

The second time Mary called her daughter's name, there was a response and Erin almost jumped off the sofa. Her cheeks lit up like a cherry bonfire.

"Back on planet earth, are we?" Mary asked, with a voice full of unhidden suspicion.

"Yes Mammy". She replied.

"Good. Now, Harriet has given us a lovely red wine as a gift. Be a good girl and get some poured out into glasses. But NOT for Michelle, ye hear me?"

_Harriet gave Mammy a gift?_

_Psychological warfare this is… in my own house for feck's sake!_

_I won't stand for it! I will not be deceived by her feigned generosity!_

"Erin? Erin are ye listening to me?"

Looking up to her mother, a face engraved with a biblical fury, laced with the poisonous bottled up hatred from nearly a week of torture, Erin snapped. Beyond the snap that occurred in her History lesson earlier in the week. Enough was enough.

"No… I won't".

The end result was a gravelly growl and Mary, completely caught off guard by her daughter's disgust, took an extra second to verbalise her reaction.

"I beg ye pardon?"

"I said no!"

"Do not test me Erin. Do it now or I swear on the almighty that ye will get the wooden spoon… tenfold". Mary whispered angrily, trying to avoid a scene.

Erin did not care for what her mother wanted though. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, but they were not tears of sadness. They were burning tears, tears of rage and destruction. Coursing through her veins, the same anger that had controlled her actions for the whole week, now decided to deliver the coup de grâce.

"No Mammy. I will NOT be a slave in this house ANY LONGER! I am SICK TO DEATH OF YOU ORDERING ME AROUND AND IGNORING WHAT I WANT! WELL I HAVE HAD IT!"

Screaming by then end of her outburst, with rivers of pain flooding from her canthi, Erin leapt from the sofa. Pushing past the frozen Mary, she stormed out of the room, avoiding pairs of hands trying to stop her as all the attention went to her retreating form. As soon as she reached the stairs, she bounded up them and the tears turned to natural ones when no one was around to look at her. Her worst-case scenario didn't even cover this.

"Erin… Erin".

She could hear her father's calls of her name but did not stop. The door handle was nearly in sight, the sanctuary of her room only a few feet away.

"Erin please, I just want to talk calmly".

Ignoring Gerry's further pleas, Erin practically broke down the door to get into her room, slamming it behind her. The slam could probably be heard from the White House it was that furious. Not that she was in any way concerned that it might disturb Chelsea Clinton.

At the bottom of the stairs, Gerry rested his head on the bottom of the banister, sighing loudly when the door slammed shut and his hope of stopping Erin went with it. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, expecting it to be Joe ready to admonish him for failing to stop her, Gerry instead saw James, coat in hand. The two men shared a look that sparked an understanding. He knew exactly what the Englishman had to do.

"Good luck son".

With Gerry's favour ringing in his ears, James took a long hard breath to calm his racing heart. Slowly ascending the stairs, he knew either heaven or hell would await him at the top.


	11. Foolish Hearts Dare

Chapter 11: Foolish Hearts Dare

"Erin".

"Erin".

"Erin… please, I need to talk to you".

James's need was desperate. They had to speak, and they had to speak now.

"Erin!"

He heard her feet lightly caress the floor and the footsteps then grew louder, allowing himself the chance to breathe easier. The door handle turned, and a small gap opened in the doorway, just enough for James to squeeze himself through. She was giving him an opening…

Erin did not dare look at him. She couldn't bring herself to look at James now because even her visions betrayed her; whenever she saw James, she saw Harriet too. He looked around, trying to find his place in the room. She perched on the edge of her bed, head now in her hands, bending forward towards the floor. The corner of the room was where James eventually found his place, so often the place he would sit when they were studying. For months he knew his place in that room. But on a wintery night just before Christmas, the room only functioned as the backdrop to him finding out his true place with Erin.

"Erin…". James started gently.

She did not look up at his words. Her sniffles were the only sound in the room other than the quiet tremors of the music emanating from the living room.

And the beating of their hearts.

Five. Five times he said her name without reply. _What more can I say?..._

"I… I'm sorry".

Finally, she spoke. Unable to keep up the barriers that she created around them, Erin turned to words, her main strength. The barriers began to fall.

"I just wanted to make sure she wasn't trouble".

Mustering all the courage she could find, Erin looked up to see him staring at her. James simply peered at her swollen eyes. History was repeating itself. _Katya…_

"I…". James tried to start but found himself lacking the ability to continue.

"I don't want her to use ye James. Ye… yer my best friend and… ye know I… just want what is best for ye".

Her best friend. The knowledge shocked James. Shocked him to his core, any hope of the words he searched for disappearing further into the abyss of his feelings.

"When she started hugging ye at the café I didn't like it and… then when ye went to the Jewellers with her and she was all over ye… it wasn't right… she's not the one James".

James's wide eyes had flattened into a furrowed brow at Erin's continuation. It was only then that Erin realised she spilled everything. It was never her intention to admit her prior actions, the betrayal of their friendship by her deception. That is what it was. He was her friend, and she severed the nature of their friendship by going behind his back. _He deserves better than me…,_ the sad lonely voice inside her cried out. Another tear escaped and ran down her cheek.

"You…" James found his voice. "You've spied on me Erin?"

And he knew it was deception too. She wanted to run again but it was hopeless. Erin knew she could not run from her heart forever. She let it break there and then instead. Grabbing her pillow, she threw her head into it and wept. Never before had the exposure been so harrowing. Not even when Orla read her diary out to all and sundry. But her heart would not be beaten that easily, beginning to race again when the bed dropped slightly, and a warm hand found its way to the exposed skin on her back.

"I know she's not the one Erin".

_No. I can't have been that foolish… I…_

To Erin, everything was only getting worse. She never wanted there to be anything between Harriet and her wee English fella but finding out this way burned away at her. How could James even look at her now? But when she picked herself up, he was doing just that. _Did he…_

"She's… not?"

"There is nothing going on between me and Harriet". His hand remained on her back, a gentle stroke causing a shiver of joy around her body. "I need to explain something to you Erin".

James removed the hand off her back and bought it to meet his left hand that rested in his lap. She straightened up, disappointed by his hand no longer being on her but tilting her head to meet the dropped head of James anyway.

"Harriet…". He paused, the words again eluding him, but Erin's eyes told him to try to find them. He did. "Her dad sits in the House of Lords. When she gets back, she has a boyfriend waiting for her and all the pressures and expectations of her family too. She's never been allowed a boy to just be a friend and talk to. She hugged me because I wanted to be that friend".

_Oh god, I really have been foolish. Or is he lying. She is deceptive…_

"Is that what she told ye to say".

The moment the words left her mouth, Erin knew she was being ridiculous. The feelings she fought were stronger than any she had battled before, and they were flustering her ridiculously. Taking umbrage with the remark, James stood up and walked back to where he started in the room, back into the corner. Only his coat remained on the bed and Erin felt cold without him. So… cold. The pillow went back in front of her; broke from her attitude towards him, she felt solace for her tears in the material. The sound of paper being shuffled brought her away from sorrow, and confusion replaced it within the core of her feelings. James now held a piece of paper in front of him. She knew which one.

"My poem…" She choked out. "I… I never got around to finishing it".

The warmth in his smile stopped the tears in their tracks. There may have even been a hint of mischief in them.

" _The flower conceded_

_Ambition floored_

_But then came the Lion_

_And all hope was restored_

_From then on_

_The flower knew_

_That the lion was hers_

_And she was his too"._

He finished the poem for her. He could only have finished it if he felt it too; only Erin's heart knew the ending to that body of work.

"How?... When?" She murmured in disbelief.

James hummed a gentle laugh at her before dropping to a more serious expression.

"When did I know John-Paul was the snake? Yeah… when I was on your roof".

She couldn't help but laugh at him this time. Slowly but surely the angst retreated and the air around them became sweeter… friendly… and perhaps more. Her foolish heart dared.

"As for how". James continued, the warm smile returning. "Remember when I came back to Derry, after I said I was leaving?"

All too well Erin remembered the 30th November. The memory of how she could not speak when learning of his departure, how she wanted to say so much but did not. Thinking back to what she wrote in her diary afterwards, Erin could only think how stupid she was not to have dealt with what her heart told her then. She could have avoided all of this. _Why am I such an eejit!_

"Derry is my home now, it's where I belong. My future lies here and…". He stopped and their eyes locked in place. "… that future has you in it. That is why I came back".

James's cards were on the table. By the end of his monologue, they passed by the point of no return and into unknown territory when it came to what existed between them. The boundaries of friendship were breached. It was more than friendship now. Like that day in November and a few times since, the supposed strength of Erin, her ability to bend language to her will, ceased to exist. Finding confidence from the lack of a rebuke, James resumed.

"As for the jewellers… it is easier if I show you".

He moved forward to pick up his coat and Erin could only watch in her heightened emotional state. So many feelings rushed around, she could not describe it and if her heart were to beat any quicker then it would explode. Reaching into an inner pocket, he pulled out two rectangular shaped boxes. One wrapped in seasonally themed paper and the other unwrapped, the black leather of the case just visible in the barely lit room.

"I guess you followed me because you thought Harriet and I were meeting up to have sex?"

He posed the question to her, both boxes in hand and Erin could only look away again, completely ashamed of herself. That was the exact reason Erin found herself in the town that evening. And now James knew.

"Harriet's family own the jewellers Erin. I told her about how I felt, and she agreed to help to me. When she said she was ready at school, she meant she was ready to show me these".

Erin turned back to see him lightly shake the boxes just in front of his face. Despite the awkward nature of the conversation, his smile remained. Upon learning of a further misconception, Erin only felt more foolish. Turning her mind to Harriet's last name, the stupidity only grew in her eyes. _How did I miss that?_

"Stand up Erin". James asked, taking a step closer towards her. "Please".

Courage. It was required again. The boundaries of what was expected of them must be stood up to and Erin had to do it there and then. He might have been English… he might have been one of them… but the heart wants what it wants… and she had to stand up. That is exactly what Erin did.

She made her stand. And his foolish heart dared.

Holding out the wrapped gift in front of her, and in doing so James shuffled forward ever so slightly, he closed the gap between them even further. Taking in into her hands, she allowed her fingertips to touch his and revelled in the way it made her feel. The same feeling that she had when it happened in the back of Joe's car after prom. Except this time, Erin's understanding of why was heightened.

Tearing away at Christmas wrapping before the big day itself would normally seem wrong but Erin did not care this time. Why should she? The black leather box matched the one in James's hand and she glanced up to him with a hopeful smile. Opening it, a dream became true. No… the dream. There was a necklace inside and delicately, she removed it from the case to hold out in front of her. From a couple of feet away James did the same with his identical one.

The necklace contained a small heart and either side the letters E and J, hugging into the side of the heart. _Erin and James._

Her heart, so often her worst nightmare in the days since Harriet's arrival and in reality, since the day of James's arrival… the pieces came back together and for the first time in her life, Erin Quinn felt complete. James Maguire was in love with Erin Quinn. Her dream of his love no longer had to be just that. It was real.

The crafting of the necklace was exquisite, fit for a Queen, and for a moment Erin thought of how much they must have cost. Even if Harriet's family owned the shop, they were far too spectacular to be given away for free… _the horses!_

Of course. The winnings from his bets with Granda Joe. The only money he received in his various endeavours for her Granda. Coming away from her realisation, she watched as he fixed the necklace around himself. He hid nothing now and his soft eyes gazed upon every inch of her once he'd finished. She enjoyed it when he did. It was as if nothing else existed in his world but her. Stepping forward again, his hands moved up with a silent offer and reading the gesture, Erin allowed him to take her necklace into his hands. He was now right in front of her, their noses close enough to make it aggravating not to touch. Slowly his hands worked around the back of her neck to connect the necklace in place, every brush onto her skin making her knees weaker. If he stayed there for too long, she knew she would fall apart. Hearing the click of it fastening, James stepped back and the distance between them extended again but not too far. All his beauty was before Erin's eyes and she bit her lip.

"Erin, I..".

"No. Wait".

He was stunned. _All of the progress, the way my knees have become like jelly, and now she is rejecting me? Were the wheels of fate turning at the very last?_

But James should have known better and immediately felt as foolish as Erin did a few minutes beforehand. Moving over to her wardrobe, Erin pulled out matching gifts of her own and like James, one was wrapped in Christmas paper and the other was not. With a smile wider than the mouth of the Foyle, Erin handed James his wrapped box and quickly removed the layer of wrapping paper over it. The box, bigger than the ones the necklaces were kept in, was adorned with a fine lid and gently he took it off. Reaching inside, for the first time in his life, James felt complete. Love. He knew it to be true from her now too. The ornament in his hands made the Englishman want to laugh and cry together, with not a care about anything else. A man and a woman were stood holding hands, their heads leaning into one and other in a sign of true love. It was what they were wearing that made it special. The man wore a suit and a very familiar scarf and the woman's dress looked very suspiciously like an Easter dress that he had seen before.

"I sent a sculptor the picture Granda took of us at prom". Erin explained, James chuckling at it.

"It is beautiful Erin. I never knew that I meant so much to you".

James's voice cracked as he finished but he recovered it into one of the lopsided grins that made Erin's heat melt. Fluttering her eyelashes at him, they both put the statues back into their respective boxes and onto Erin's desk. Reaching out, James grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her in close to him, his other hand dropping to hold her waist. Neither ever thought they would get the chance to be so close to the other and both froze, unsure of what to do next. The only thing they could find comfort in was each other's laughter and both burst into fits of it, whilst their bodies were pressed against each other.

"We're eejits aren't we". Erin smiled up at him.

"I do believe we are. I love you Erin".

The poetic girl of the group decided against words with her reply. Erin threw her lips onto his and suddenly there were no troubles, no soldiers, no IRA. In her room at that moment, it was just Erin Quinn and James Maguire. Kissing. They eased into the kiss, as if they had done it one hundred times. Both could feel the other grinning through their lips and his hands gripped onto her waist tightly, sending waves of arousal through her body. Her hands were around his neck and the tips of her fingers laced around the curls of his hair.

"Ahem".

SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!

Erin extracted herself from his loving lips and jumped back to find her Granda Joe stood in the doorway to her room. From a moment of bliss, she descended into a blind panic, attempting to find any excuse to ward him off with. But how the hell could she explain snogging the face off of James to her Granda with anything else but the truth?

"All square now son?". Joe addressed James, to Erin's utter incomprehension.

"Yes. Thank you Joe".

Granda Joe gave them both a nod and then… a wink, before walking off with a gleeful grin slapped across his chops. Erin turned back to James and raised her brows, demanding an explanation for what just happened with her Granda.

"My agreement with him was that if I listened, worked hard and helped out, that he would allow me to be with you, if you wanted to be with me".

Erin hadn't considered the prospect of being even more in love with him but as he revealed the details of the previously secret agreement, she found it possible. She thought it despicable that Granda appeared to use James as slave labour yet the whole time he was working away to be with her. That was special.

"I asked for your parents' permission too". James unexpectedly continued, furthering Erin's love for him. "This party was my idea. If everything had gone as planned, your dad was going to create some sort of distraction that allowed us to be alone so that I could ask you out on a date. But this… this is better".

Another one of those dopey, lopsided grins came to show itself and she couldn't help but shift back into his arms and cuddle into him, her head coming to rest on his chest… where it belonged.

"Clare and Michelle know as well". Yet more information escaped from his lips that shocked her. "It took a little while to sink in, but they are happy for us. And I think Orla probably knows by now".

Erin couldn't help but be delighted at the news of their friend's acceptance of their love. It would still be a difficult road, but it was a start. Months, if not years, of Michelle's mockery lay in wait but they would laugh it off as a team. At that moment though she couldn't care less, and Erin's lips were soon back on James's and they explored each other a bit more thoroughly this time.

"You drive me mad with desire, James Maguire". She hummed mischievously.

"You put my head in a spin, Erin Quinn". He replied with equal mischief in his voice.

They started laughing with their lips together and eventually had to pull away, putting hands over their mouths to try and stop the rapturous laughter.

"We're absolute doses" Erin chuckled, putting a hand back on his chest.

"We are foolish. But adorable I think".

James's summary of their relationship did not help stop their amusement but eventually they stopped to breath and James took her hand in his.

"We should go down before Joe gets the wrong idea". He beamed at her.

"Aye. Hopefully, we won't have to face too many questions". Erin replied.

"I think you know we will".

Erin squeezed his hand and grinned. For once, she wasn't that bothered what everyone else would say or ask about them. There was no more hiding and lying. She was victorious.


	12. Cloud Nine

Epilogue: Cloud Nine 23rd December 1995.

_Well diary, you can probably tell already but there is no need for you to be buried in my back garden._

_Yesterday was the best day of my life._

_For so long it threatened not to be. But everything fell into place and the dream that my words on these pages and the longing in my heart held, came true. Mr Flanagan told me to tell the person I loved just how I feel, and he was right._

_James Maguire is my boyfriend. My first serious one. And I could not be happier!_

_I love him so much. I already did but now I can say it, and nothing can be doubted because he knows that I do too. He went to such trouble to make it known to me just how special he thinks I am and how much he loves me. I think I might be the luckiest girl in Derry… and maybe the world!_

_The family have taken it well. I reckon Granda Joe already had a soft spot for my wee English fella going back ages and treats him better than he treats daddy. I wonder how long that will last! Mammy and Daddy are both happy for us too. Daddy whispered into my ear that we remind them of themselves at our age and when I told James before he left for the night, he seemed very satisfied by the comparison. Somewhere along the line I must have missed Auntie Sarah's epiphany, because not once did she mention her previously held belief that James was gay. At least we will be able to provide evidence now to the contrary, should she change her mind again. Uncle Colm seemed happy for us too, but we lost him when he started talking about Margaret Mullen and her husband Tommy._

_Orla hugged us like we were going away forever when we got back downstairs last night and made it very clear to James that if he ever hurt me, he would get to know her knife collection a lot better. It is almost as if she'd practiced threatening people repeatedly, the delivery was that smooth. Clare, typically supporting, stayed just that. She wants happiness for us and in time, I hope we can find her a special someone too._

_I dreaded what Michelle might say. I shouldn't have. We received a few rules to abide by, but that was as bad as it got for the two of us. Though when James decided to kiss me in front of her, immediately breaking rule number one, the threats of her boking were real enough to make me push him off. He didn't take it badly though. He enjoyed getting one over on her. I did too!_

_I'll have to stop now as James will be here soon! I am already SO excited! We are going out for some lunch, just the two of us and James said for me to wear my best dress. Where might we be going!? All I know is that afterwards, we are saying our goodbyes to Harriet before she flies back to England later. I have so much to thank her for and well… so much to say sorry for, although I think I may not tell her about all the nasty things I wanted to see happen to her. Probably best not._

_Anyway, I better go. Oh, in case I don't write in the next couple of days… Merry Christmas!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fifth part will be arriving in the next few days. Thanks for all the comments on each fic :)


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